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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24136480">The Moon Gleams Like A Knife</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelphoenixwings14/pseuds/Angelphoenixwings14'>Angelphoenixwings14</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>...What If? [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Knives Out (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gore, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Tags May Change</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:34:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24136480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelphoenixwings14/pseuds/Angelphoenixwings14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ransom is a werewolf, has been for years.  On the night of Harlan's 85th birthday, instead of plotting for murder, Ransom has a different strategy in mind to re-secure his fortune.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marta Cabrera/Ransom Drysdale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>...What If? [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>223</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Set Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What am I doing?  What am I doing?!  What the fuck is wrong with me lmao.</p>
<p>I made SO MANY jokes about Ransom being a beast in Cut Me Open that I just HAD to create this crackfest.  As you can see, this will be part of a larger-themed series I've had in mind for quite awhile now (and fair warning, this is not the most cracked out AU idea I have).</p>
<p>Per the tags and summary of the series, here's what you need to know:</p>
<p>1. Ransom is a werewolf and has been for years.<br/>2. You need to know that my favorite version of a werewolf is the one in Van Helsing (Hugh Jackman version), so that's what I'm going with.  Sorry not sorry.<br/>3. This is Knives Out canon-compliant UNTIL the end of Harlan's birthday party.  Everything else from there will be divergent based off the premise of this first chapter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ransom looked around his grandfather’s mansion, bored out of his goddamn mind.  What did he care the old man made it to 85?  He snatched another glass of champagne off Fran’s shiny silver platter (and almost snarled at how she skittered away from him frightfully).  The acidic taste made the back of his throat ache as he swallowed it down with how pungent it was, but that didn’t stop him from guzzling the rest back in an attempt to stifle his nerves.</p><p>Honestly, it wasn’t <i>really</i> the party.  In a family like his, they all had secrets.  His just happened to be stranger and darker than even his imaginative grandfather could hope to understand.  He shouldn’t even have come tonight with the time of the month it was, but large family gatherings tended to be amusing enough that he was willing to risk it… and also his folks would never let him hear the end of it if he’d skipped.  Harlan himself had made sure Ransom would be present, which wasn’t all <i>that</i> weird with how close the two were.  They didn’t seem like it half the time with how viciously they fought (a Thrombey legacy, truth be told), but he was obviously the patriarch’s favorite, much to everyone else’s hatred.  </p><p>Oh, if only he had known.</p><p>He was already agitated by the time they walked into Harlan’s study, and he checked his expensive watch to note the time.  He didn’t have long, and Harlan made time all the more precious when he suddenly told Ransom he’d cut everyone out of his will.  Seeing anything other than red through the fight that had ensued afterward was almost impossible.  Ransom felt ready to jump out of his skin and rip his grandfather’s throat out, and it was only by some miracle that he’d left with nothing more than an, “I’m warning you!”</p><p>The cold air didn’t help.  His blood still boiled, and his veins crawled as he took off in his beamer.  <i>Of all the fucking nights to pull this shit-</i> a God-awful snarl ripped from deep in Ransom’s throat.  The vein in his neck pulsed, and he felt his heart rate skyrocket faster than his car’s speed.  <i>And for Marta fucking Cabrera?!  What the literal fuck.</i>  It made no fucking sense to him whatsoever.  The <i>nurse?</i></p><p>Sure, she had that accent, and those baby-doll eyes, full lips and perfectly smooth skin.  But she wore cheap, frumpy clothes that made her look as attractive as an 80-year old librarian, and she was little more than a wallflower when anyone more than Harlan or Fran was around.  He’d caught her and Meg talking from time to time, but what the hell was so great about that fucking nurse?!</p><p>His mind started spinning as he drove, the dark, winding roads leading him nowhere fast.  </p><p>There was <i>no</i> way he was letting his grandfather get away with this, but his baser instincts were starting to take over, and his thoughts grew tunneled.  <i>So what</i> if her voice sounded like music, or her skin smelled heavenly - lemony and heady, like a bakery at the peak of morning.  If he thought about it long enough, he could still smell her, and she smelled good enough to eat.  Ransom’s nostrils flared, and he pressed his tongue to the top of his mouth as it watered for her flesh.  </p><p>
  <i>Does she taste as good as she smells?</i>
</p><p>The thought had him slamming on his breaks, his almost luminescent eyes widening.  He glared into the darkness as that thought suddenly became a plot inside his head.  His lips broadened in a wicked smile.</p><p>~*~</p><p>“Hey, you’ve had a long day.  Wanna do drugs?” Marta asked Harlan, her expression probably far too cheery for how she’d phrased that.  She was amused though, and Harlan’s aged eyes glinted mirthfully.  She set his bottle of Ketorolac aside and gripped the Morphine, filling a syringe with 3 milligrams for Harlan’s enjoyment.  Harlan shared his joy of the drug with her, which told her she probably <i>shouldn’t</i> be indulging him, but he’d become a pain if she took this away now.  Besides, it <i>had</i> been a long day, and he’d had a long, interesting life.  He could spare a little hedonism.</p><p>Once she finished administering the dosage, she unstrapped his arm and packed her medical bag away.  She stayed with Harlan for a little while longer, picking up the tossed over Go board while she monitored him as he reached his high.  They chatted, and laughed, Marta more so once Harlan’s high really kicked in and he started to giggle and twist words the way he loved so much.  By the time she got him to bed and headed down to her car to leave for the night, it was already midnight.</p><p>She said goodbye to Walt and Jacob on her way out, gripping her coat to herself a little tighter before she reached her car.  The air was frigid, and somehow seemed a little colder with the full moon’s light basking everything in a hazy silver glow.  Her car stuttered, the entirety of it vibrating thanks to the aging engine.  She gave it a few moments to adjust itself back to life before she took off for home.  </p><p>Despite the intensity of the moonlight, the woods between Harlan’s mansion and the greater Boston area were thick and dark.   Her headlights pierced through a thin film of fog, and she let out a heavy breath.  The day had been stressful for her as well.  It always was when all of the Thrombeys gathered together, and she felt the lasting effect of their volatile presence still rattling through her nerves.  </p><p><i>That’s all it is,</i> Marta told herself, fidgeting in her seat as she twisted the wheel to bend the car through a curve of the road, <i>just post-party jitters.</i>  Not at all the eerie stillness of the night, or how she swore she’d heard a wolf’s howl just a few moments ago.  She turned the radio up to try and drown out her strange apprehension, the sudden static that blasted through giving her heart a stutter.  She bounced in her seat, and focused on switching the radio to a more in-tune station, when a dark mass rushed out in front of her car.</p><p>Yipping, Marta slammed on the breaks and jerked the car to try and avoid what she assumed was a deer.  Unfortunately, that had her driving straight into a divot at the side of the road.  A shriek escaped her as her car nose-dived into the hole, the front bumper slamming into a tree stump so hard, the blow rattled her bones brittle.  Her old car didn’t have the best sensors left, which allowed her head to smack straight into the steering wheel before the air bag had the decency to fire.  All it did was consume space before her when her body whiplashed back into the seat, leaving Marta utterly stunned and throbbing with a wicked headache.</p><p>“Ah, shit,” she hissed quietly to herself.  Grimacing horribly, she moved her neck slowly, and brought a hand up to nudge the sharpest point of her pain.  The area immediately flared, which had her hissing again before she drew her fingers back.  Crimson glinted off her fingertips thanks to the moonlight.  Her car hissed and rattled with its dying breaths, and despite knowing what <i>should</i> be done with a patient in a car crash, Marta unbuckled her seatbelt and forced her shocked body to move.  She pushed her door open, ignoring the ache in her head and spine, and rounded the car to get a look at it.</p><p>“Fuck,” she breathed, staring at the ruined front end, steam rising from the busted engine within.  Sighing, she squinted against the throb in her head and tried to get a glimpse of the animal that had jumped out in front of her.</p><p>That’s when the hairs on the back of her neck rose on end.  She stiffened instinctually, something innately primal causing her heart to thunder.  She twisted around slowly, and startled at the flash she saw in the pitch-black shadows of the trees.  How quickly the glint – almost like two eyes watching her in the dark – disappeared, she almost felt like she’d imagined it.  “H-hello?” she called, and then immediately berated herself for being every stupid asshole in a horror film ever.</p><p><i>You’re just being silly,</i> she told herself, demanding she stop the superstitious nonsense.  That’s when she heard a growl more guttural and beastly than any animal had a right to be.  It rumbled slowly and threateningly, and all that reason she’d just tried to talk her bravery up with fled out the window.  Dazed and confused, she twisted around and raced off, the only thought flying through her mind being, <i>Run!</i></p><p>Only, it had rained recently, and the ground was slick between the mud and fallen leaves.  She’d run blindly into the woods, hoping it would give her some cover, only for her feet to be swept out from under her thanks to the slippery ground.  She thudded onto her chest with a grunt, mud smearing into her white coat.  Her head throbbed, causing her to groan, but the splitting pain in her skull amounted to nothing when something – a <i>lot</i> of things – suddenly snapped into her calf.  White-hot pain ruptured through her leg in needle-like points at first, before the whole area blended into molten lava.  She shrieked at the top of her lungs, just before she was dragged back into the darkened brush.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Gambit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Changes are abound, and both Marta and Ransom start to wade through the aftermath of the full moon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Marta?  Marta, wake up!”  The foggy voice and incessant pattering of a knock at her door finally registered in her mind, just before the door flew open and Alice burst in.  “Christ, Marta.  It’s past noon!  What the hell are you still doing in bed?!”</p>
<p>“W-what?” Marta rasped, groggy and disoriented.  She pushed herself up from her pillows, eyes squinting against the harsh light filtering through her bedroom.  Noon?  Unable to comprehend that, she took a deep breath and wrapped one hand around her forehead to try and still her buzzing mind.  After studying her dazed sister a moment longer, Alice chuckled.</p>
<p>“Jeez, did you have one too many last night?  Is that why you crashed your car?”</p>
<p>“What?!”  Now, Marta finally lurched awake, eyes wide and mouth gaping.  Amazed, Alice’s arched brows lifted high on her forehead, and she huffed incredulously at Marta.</p>
<p>“Yeah.  There’s a couple cops here to ask you about it.  Mom’s pissed.  You better get your ass up,” Alice told her, before rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she left the room.  Growling out a sigh, Marta squinted her eyes closed as she realized the waking world was still a bit too much.</p>
<p>“Uh, okay.  I-I’ll be right down!” she called, and then bowed her head back into the cradle of her hand.  She breathed out unsteadily, eyes closing to try and steady herself.  She felt so strange, like she was both over-stimulated and numb all at once.  And now she had to grapple with this revelation.  <i>Crashed my car?</i></p>
<p>Last night suddenly came racing back to her.  The animal, the crash, the feral growl that sent her running, and then-</p>
<p>An icy chill clawed its way through Marta.  Her heart thundered in her chest as wide eyes looked around her room.  <i>How the hell did I get here?</i>  She didn’t remember anything after pain consumed her body.  Lurching for her blankets, she tugged them back to look down at her legs.  Still in the jeans she wore last night, mud caked on the front of them and the back of one calf stained red from blood.  Eyes widening, she jerked her leg up and dipped her knee to try and see the area, but she felt no pain as she pulled at the tattered edges of denim.</p>
<p>Her fingers brushed smooth skin, which only made her heart pound harder.  Remembering her forehead, she reached up to feel smooth skin and no coarseness that’d indicate dry blood.  She scrambled up from bed to look at herself, brushing her hair back as she looked in the full length mirror she had to inspect herself further.  Her top half revealed nothing of what had happened last night, her skin clean and torso stripped down to the simple T-shirt she’d had on under her coat and blue sweater.  Her bottom half hinted at the horror with her dirtied and ripped jeans.  She stripped out of them to get a better look at her leg, and while crimson caked her skin, there really was no evidence of the pain she’d felt one way or another.</p>
<p>“What the fuck…” she breathed at herself, before remembering <i>why</i> Alice had woken her up.  Jolting forward, she reached for her drawers to pull out a proper pair of pajama pants and slipped them on, all while haphazardly looking around the room for her coat and sweater, which she presumed would be as dirty as her jeans.  Cursing when she didn’t easily spot them, she secured the sweats around her legs and went racing downstairs for the front door.</p>
<p>Her mother glared unhappily at her, but Marta could only spare a brief glance before she opened the front door to reveal two men standing on the other side.  “Marta Cabrera?” one asked, his rich caramel voice and dark eyes both comfortingly gentle.  That didn’t stop Marta from damn near wincing at the loud - <i>too loud</i> - volume.  Eye twitching, she tried to shake her head of the uncomfortable sensation.</p>
<p>“Y-yes?”</p>
<p>“I’m Detective Elliot.  This is my associate, Officer Wagner.  We found your car abandoned in a ditch off Pine Lane, heading away from the Thrombey Estate.” </p>
<p>“Detective?” Marta interrupted, her face scrunched from confusion as much as it was the nauseating level of her senses.  She could smell aftershave wafting off Detective Elliot, and coffee clinging to them both as if they’d spilled it all over their clothes.  Swallowing, she hoarsely asked, “Do detectives usually handle car accidents?”</p>
<p>“No, but a possible missing persons case?” Elliot countered, brow quirking over a warm smile.  “Harlan has a relationship with the department thanks to his research for his books, and he insisted on a detective’s presence until you’d been found.”</p>
<p>“Well… you found me,” Marta pointed out, expression still mildly contorted with her discomfort.  Elliot’s placating smile remained, though his companion leaned forward to participate in the conversation.</p>
<p>“Can you tell us what happened?” he asked, his far more high-pitched voice nearly making her wince all over.  <i>I must have a concussion,</i> she noted absently.</p>
<p>“An animal jumped out in front of my car, and I crashed into the ditch trying to avoid it,” she recounted hollowly.</p>
<p>“You didn’t call the crash in?” Elliot asked.</p>
<p>“No, I-“ Marta paused, lips parted uncertainly.  What the hell was she supposed to say now?  She didn’t even know how the hell she’d gotten home, and that moment – the snarling beast and flash of pain.  Her heart skipped a beat, and she sucked in a breath.  “To be honest, my memories after the crash are a little spotty.  I-I hit my head, and I’m not sure-“</p>
<p>When she failed to speak on, Wagner asked in his waspish voice, “Have you gone to the hospital yet?”  Marta shook her head, and both lawmen looked a little distressed.  “Miss Cabrera!  As a nurse, I don’t think we need to tell you the likelihood that you could have a concussion,” Wagner informed her, tone imploring with his over-enthused care.</p>
<p>“I know.  I’m sorry,” Marta murmured.  Elliot held his hand up to prevent Wagner from going on another lecture, his calm balancing his current partner well. </p>
<p>“We can take you, if you need a ride,” he offered kindly.</p>
<p>“No, that’s alright.  I can manage, and I think I’ve wasted enough of your time.  Sorry for the scare,” she apologized quietly.  Elliot nodded, and then held out a slip of paper for Marta to take. </p>
<p>“This is the lot your car was towed to.  I suggest speaking with your insurance on where to have it moved for their inspection first.  Since it was just an animal that caused your crash, and it’s a singular vehicle, your insurance company should be able to handle the rest from here.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Take care, Miss Cabrera.”  She closed the door as the two officers turned around to leave.  Her gaze scanned the contents of the paper that had been handed to her, before she sighed. </p>
<p>“Marta, what the hell?!” her mother griped.  Her voice could be grating on a good day, and today wasn’t a good day.  Marta grit her teeth and shut her eyes as the rough, demanding tone assaulted her ears.</p>
<p>“Not now, Mama,” she growled, the edge of something darker in her voice that, for the moment, she entirely missed.  She avoided the shocked look on her mother’s face by trudging back up the stairs, the paper in her hand crinkling as she returned to her room to deal with the missed calls and mysteries she had surrounding last night.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Ransom usually slept the day after a full moon away completely, and this time was no exception.  If anything, he was even <i>more</i> exhausted than usual after how hard he’d worked to keep control of himself.  Usually, he went somewhere no one would find him (because he knew what happened when bodies piled up at the same time each month), but he’d had to remain local this time to enact his plan.  Contrary to popular belief, it <i>was</i> possible to hold some level of human consciousness through a shift.  After years of dealing with his transformations, he could manage it; it was just exhausting not to give in to every feral urge he had.</p>
<p>And after all that control, he’d had to pluck Marta up from the coma his bite had put her in and bring her home, lest worse questions and procedures befall her.  After he’d driven her home and hauled her through her bedroom window to sleep the rest of her transformation away in peace, he’d gone home and passed out in his bed for the rest of the day.</p>
<p> The <i>following</i> day, however, he went to see if all his hard work paid off.</p>
<p>He dressed in his cream-colored cable knit, uncaring about the holes that littered its soft material.  He tugged a pair of dark slacks over his legs to compliment his light shirt, and grabbed his beige coat.  A colorful scarf was grabbed off the rack near his front door, before he slipped into his loafers and headed for his beamer.  It was early, and he was damn near cheery as he hummed to himself while drumming on his steering wheel, until he reached his grandfather’s mansion.  He flipped Mr. Proofroc off while passing the gatehouse, and parked the car in the driveway.</p>
<p>The dogs came rushing out for him, barking and snapping their jaws they always did.  Ransom grit his teeth and bit back his own snarl as he maneuvered around them to get to the front door.  His grandfather greeted him there thanks to Mr. Proofroc’s call to the main house.  Harlan’s brows furrowed as Ransom stepped into the foyer. </p>
<p>“Ransom?” he asked, and then immediately grew a steely look.  Waggling his finger at his grandson, he barked, “Now, if you’re here to talk about what we discussed the other night, I’ll have you know my mind’s made up, and I’m not-“</p>
<p>“Relax, Old Man,” Ransom cut him off, rolling his eyes.  He swooped through the foyer with grandeur in each step, leading his shuffling grandfather toward the library.  “I’m just here to see what all the hubbub is about.  What in God’s name has possessed you to give everything to your fucking nurse,” he snapped, rolling his eyes to himself at the absurdity of it all.  He reached the library desk, and toyed with a fancy ballpoint pen while he casually asked, “How did she take the news, by the way?”  </p>
<p>His grandfather’s sudden lack of an answer had him turning around to peer at him.  “You haven’t told her yet, have you?” he realized, before a crass chuckle left him.  “Wow, you piece of work.”</p>
<p>“She won’t understand-“</p>
<p>“Yeah she can join the club,” Ransom muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes again while Harlan prattled on.</p>
<p>“-And I haven’t found the right way to tell her yet.”</p>
<p>“Wow.  The great Harlan Thrombey, at a loss for words,” Ransom mocked whimsically.  Harlan scowled at him.</p>
<p>“Now you listen to me!  You’re not to mention any of this to her, or anyone else in the family!  The only reason I told you was so you could get a head start on planning before my days are up!  I’ll tell the rest of them when I’m good and ready,” Harlan barked at him, in what Ransom assumed was supposed to be a threatening tone.  It was usually the tone that had them both snarling at each other in a dramatic scene for all to see, or Ransom cackling and mocking his grandfather in a haughty way.</p>
<p>Today, Ransom just held his hands up in surrender, though he bit back a rather mischievous smile.  Marta didn’t know she was soon to be an heiress?  That only worked to his advantage.  “Where’s your Go board?” he asked, changing the topic entirely.  He fetched the board from upstairs and brought it to the library so the two could play a game over their morning coffee.  An hour later, Harlan practically shot up from his leather chair, excited to see Marta after the scare her abandoned car had given him the day prior.  They’d spoken briefly on the phone, and he’d given her the day off to recuperate, so was even more eager to see her than usual.</p>
<p>Punctual as always, even with having to call an Uber, she knocked and opened the door right at 11am.  “Hello?” she called, easing the door shut behind her.  The dogs rushed her first.  They were always excitable, but familiar and friendly with her… usually.  Today, they gave a start, and upon rushing her let loose a snarl and a warning lunge.  </p>
<p>She gasped and reeled back, just as Harlan came into the foyer and snapped, “Hey!  Get out of here you mangy mutts!”  He moved for her, shooing the dogs, both thankfully obedient to the old man.  They wandered off with soft growls lingering in their throats, causing Harlan to complain, “I don’t know what the devil’s gotten into them – mm, they’re probably just wound up because Ransom’s here.”</p>
<p>“Ransom?”  The man in question hadn’t bothered to lift from his seat in the library, though he could hear everything occurring at the front door perfectly.  He smiled, finger tapping against the side of his cheek in thought as he leaned against his elbow.  He’d always had a suspicion the dogs’ hostility toward him came from an innate understanding of what he was.  Their sudden disapproval of Marta paid heed to his theory, but he wasn’t about to sound the horns of triumph just yet.</p>
<p>“Are you alright, Marta?” Harlan asked on their way toward the library.</p>
<p>“Yes.  I’m better today,” she assured her patient, who didn’t detect the slight hesitance in her voice the way Ransom’s sensitive hearing did.  She’d almost faltered on her claim to be better, and he tilted his head to watch her as she entered the library, idly curious if she’d start yacking in the next few moments.  Instead, she just tilted her head and stared back at him, her big eyes openly curious about his presence.  A practiced, charming smile curved his lips.</p>
<p>“Granddad told me you’re good at Go,” Ransom pointed out, his sharp blue eyes flickering toward Harlan.  His mischievous smirk went lopsided, before he looked back to Marta.  “Just came by to see how good, unless you wanna stick to humiliating shriveled up old geezers.”</p>
<p>“Why you ungrateful little-“ Harlan complained.  Ransom’s eyes glinted mirthfully as he slanted his gaze toward his grandfather.  “Please, Marta.  Teach my grandson some manners,” Harlan suddenly encouraged, gesturing toward the Go board they’d abandoned upon her arrival.</p>
<p>Ransom’s smile turned slyer, until Marta quietly pointed out to Harlan, “You don’t seem to learn any manners, no matter how many times I beat you.”  Surprised, Ransom chuckled at the jab, a little more genuinely intrigued than he’d been a moment ago.  Marta sat down in Harlan’s previous chair and collected the white stones toward her side, assuming the color piece he’d had.  Ransom gathered the black stones, and rolled a handful of them in his palm.  </p>
<p>He watched intently as Marta’s expression twitched, the sound of scratching and clacking stones undoubtedly hell on her ears.  They irritated his, too, but he was far more used to how biting certain sounds could be.  Her eye twitched again before her sharp stare met the humorous glint in his eyes.  He quirked a brow, jaw settling against the curl of his opposite hand’s fingers.</p>
<p>“You go first, Sweet Cheeks,” he teased, smirking at the irritable flush that dusted said cheeks at the quip.  He had to admit, they looked good flushed, soft and smooth.  As she set a stone to the board, he took a moment to indulge and wondered what running his finger against that flush might feel like.  Taking a breath, he ignored the allure of her scent, something even headier and primal now mixed in with the lemony delight, and leaned forward to set a stone of his own against the grid.</p>
<p>She matched him quickly, putting a white stone down where he hadn’t expected it.  Brows lifting, he glanced up at her and watched her jaw flex, nostrils flaring in a way he recognized.  His lips twitched wickedly, but he said nothing as he put another stone down and remained tipped forward, keeping his own scent prominent in her space.  Her eyes nearly crossed, but she managed to keep her focus enough to set another stone down on the board.     </p>
<p>They moved silently a few more rounds before Ransom finally tipped back, his free hand curling around the edge of his chair.  The nail of his ring finger started scratching against the old wood, a sound quiet enough to go unmarked by a human.  Marta’s expression twitched again, and Ransom watched her struggle to keep focused through the uncomfortable vibration the noise caused to their ears.  He kept it up each time it wasn’t his turn, distracting Marta so badly, that by the end, the irritable flush on her cheeks worsened and she looked damn close to crying from the ungodly scratch numbing her eardrum.</p>
<p>Ransom set a black stone down to the board to finalize his victory, but Marta didn’t stick around to even really process it.  She shoved up from her chair, mumbling an, “Excuse me,” under her breath, and exited the library with haste in her steps.  Ransom tipped back, head lulling over the back of his chair to cast a dull look at his grandfather.</p>
<p>“Well she doesn’t seem like much,” he drawled, sounding bored.  He knew he should probably beat Marta without handicapping her so heavily, but he couldn’t help his glee, and not just over the victory he’d still unabashedly accept.</p>
<p>
  <i>It worked.</i>
</p>
<p>He’d never tried before, to turn someone into a werewolf, but holy fuck, it had <i>worked!</i>  </p>
<p>“I-I don’t,” Harlan stammered, clearly perturbed by how uncomfortable Marta felt.  Concern flared in his eyes and his tone when he said, “This is unusual.  Maybe I should check on her-“</p>
<p>“I’ll do it,” Ransom growled, rolling his eyes as he pushed up from his chair.  “The rate you move at, we’ll be here all day wondering what the hell happened to her,” he chided his grandfather, hiding just how excited he was to follow after Marta.  He trailed her scent through the home to the kitchen, where she stood by an opened window to try and catch her breath.  Ransom moved silently, but she still sensed him when he entered the room.</p>
<p>“I’m not in the mood for gloating,” Marta muttered, lips pursed in a heavy frown as she wearily tried to stave off the typical Thrombey pride.  Ransom said nothing, watching her intently as he stopped at the fridge.  He glanced through it quickly, before grabbing some leftover steak tartare from one of the shelves.  He didn’t know why Fran had kept it from Harlan’s birthday when the few people who ate it weren’t around anymore.  He could smell it on the verge of spoiling, but that wouldn’t matter for them or their canine counterparts (who’d probably end up eating it for dinner were he not about to put it to good use).</p>
<p>He set it down on the kitchen island, the clatter of heavy glass on marble making Marta flinch.  She turned around to stare at Ransom, eyes quickly daring down to the saran-wrapped meat as the scent forced her mouth to water, unbidden.  She didn’t even like tartare, but right now her stomach panged for it.  Ransom watched her eyes light up with intrigue.  Hand wrapping around the edge of the marble counter, he obnoxiously slid his pinky ring against the hard surface as he stalked closer to Marta, the scraping echo loud and horrid enough to make her visibly cringe and twist in on herself.  He stopped the searing sound when he rounded the counter and stood before her, his own eyes glinting intently.</p>
<p>“Something the matter?” he goaded her, shoulders hunched enough so he was eye-level with her.  When the echo faded from her eardrums, she looked into his eyes, uncertainly at first, and then with a fair bit of shock and skepticism.  Her lips parted, chest expanding over a deep inhale that overwhelmed her with his scent.  Potent like charcoal, and sharp like clove, it did nothing to hide the musk her instincts recognized better than she could.  Ransom had always seemed a little feral, dangerous in that alluring ‘bad boy’ kind of way, but now she insanely wondered if there was something deeper to it.  Her strangely heightened senses seemed convinced of that.   </p>
<p>“You-“ she started, and then hesitated.  She didn’t want to sound like a lunatic, but the way his eyes glinted mirthfully and a wicked smile spread over her lips convinced her to say, “You know what’s happening to me.”  He nodded almost imperceptibly.</p>
<p>“I know what’s happening to you,” he repeated quietly.  Drawing back, he stood to his full height.  “Come to lunch with me tomorrow, and I’ll explain everything,” he offered.  She fidgeted, and opened her mouth before hesitating again.  She glanced past the kitchen, and Ransom followed her gaze before he realized she must be wondering after Harlan.  Grunting, he muttered, “Just tell the old man you’ll come over after.  I’ll drive you here.  I’m sure you could use the lift, anyway.”  She glanced toward him sharply, before she realized Harlan had probably told him about the car accident. </p>
<p>He took her silence as acceptance and nodded.  Walking away from her, he paused by the tartare dish and flicked it further down the counter, toward her.  “Eat it.  It’ll ease your nerves a bit, take the edge off,” he encouraged, before he held his hand up over his head in a dramatic wave.  “Tomorrow,” he called, before he took his leave of the house, and smirked as he practically skipped to his beamer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:waves:  Thanks to everyone interested in this story thus far!  Not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited about where this is going and I hope you all enjoy it too!  It's been fun to write, and is a little bit of a different take on the characters (and Harlan is still alive!  So it's been super fun having someone new to play off).</p>
<p>For those of you following Cut Me Open also, don't worry I'm working on the next chapter for it and hopefully will have it up soon.  They're getting trickier since we're reaching the climax of that story so they're taking longer, as I obviously want to do it right!  Hopefully this little fic helps tide us all over in the meantime though ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Deal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Okay, so…” Marta finally said, her accent drawing him in.</p><p>“So?” he asked, leaning onto his elbows.  Marta’s brows lifted and she shook her head.</p><p>“Are you going to tell me what you think you know?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Ransom picked her up the next day, she didn’t know what to expect.  She didn’t expect him to be gentlemanly, at least, and he met that expectation by honking the beamer’s horn impatiently once he parked outside.  Marta rolled her eyes and growled to herself, but grabbed a dark blue jacket – it was the only other coat she had, and was unfortunately lighter than her missing white coat – and ran out the door.  She could feel Alice’s eyes on her as she left, likely peeking from the ground floor blinds.</p><p>“Well you took your sweet time,” Ransom griped once she opened the passenger side door.  She frowned at him as she settled in the seat.  Once her door clapped shut, he peeled off with a roaring engine and squealing tires.  </p><p>“Where are we going?” Marta asked instead of addressing his complaint.  She glanced at him while clicking her seatbelt in place, but instead of answering he turned the radio up.  “Twisted” by MISSIO suddenly filled the car, the sultry voice and dark beats alluring outside of the volume.  And that’s what had Marta cringing a little, ear tilting toward her shoulder as she reached out to set the volume back down.  Ransom’s hand intercepted her own. </p><p>“Deal with it.  It’ll help you get used to loud sounds,” Ransom said, pushing her hand back toward her lap.  Marta didn’t think she should’ve been able to hear him over how loud the music blasted through the car, but she heard him perfectly.  Her lips parted in surprise, and she blinked at him for a moment before falling back in her seat.</p><p>The drive wasn’t a long one.  Off the highway, Ransom drove down a more country-esque road until they reached a rustic diner off the beaten path.  Marta looked up at the oval sign and the log cabin style exterior.  She’d never been here before, and found herself curious as they walked up the ramp.  Inside looked as cozy as the outside suggested, only far fancier than she anticipated (why though was beyond her, given her current company).</p><p>“Wow,” she murmured, and while she didn’t see Ransom’s arrogant smirk, she could practically feel it.  They were seated at a booth against the wall, a window framing the wooden table and green benches.  Candlelight gave some ambiance to the space, and hung from sections of the wall and pillars.  Marta couldn’t help admiring the decorum once they were left with their menus, but Ransom’s gaze tracked the waitress who’d been giving him ‘fuck-me-eyes’ since laying eyes on him.</p><p>“Okay, so…” Marta finally said, her accent drawing him in.</p><p>“So?” he asked, leaning onto his elbows.  Marta’s brows lifted and she shook her head.</p><p>“Are you going to tell me what you think you know?”</p><p>“You’re all business, huh?  Jeez.  At least let a guy get his order in first,” he chastised, bowing his head toward the menu.  Marta’s frown deepened, but she fell silent to scan the menu herself.  When the waitress arrived, Ransom looked up at her button nose and sultry eyes and smirked.</p><p>“Filet Mignon for me.  The smoked salmon for her,” he answered, startling Marta’s eyes up to his face.  He glanced at her, and had the decency to ask, “You want anything to drink?”</p><p>“Uhhh, water,” Marta said, still shaking her head in disbelief.  Ransom rolled his eyes, obviously a little annoyed with the boring answer.  He flashed a pretty smile at the waitress though.</p><p>“Pilsner for me.”  With a nod, the waitress collected their menus and headed off.  Ransom tilted her head as he watched her walk away, before he caught Marta staring at him.  “What?”  She shook her head again, flabbergasted.</p><p>“You ordered for me?” she asked, her incredulity causing Ransom to roll his eyes again, though this time an almost understanding smirk quirked his lips.  Stretching out along his side of the booth like some lazy jungle cat, he held his hands out and shrugged.</p><p>“We can share both meals, if you want.  Raw foods taste better.  You’ll be able to eat more normally after awhile, but rawer foods’ll always taste better now.  While you’re adjusting, I suggest you stick to it as much as possible.”</p><p>“Adjusting?  To <i>what</i>?” she pressed.  Ransom cocked his head a little as he studied her.  One hand tapped along the back of his seat a few times, before he shrugged again.  </p><p>“You’re a werewolf,” he said seriously, unsurprised when she guffawed.</p><p>“Come on.”</p><p>“I know.  It sounds crazy, but it’s true.  The heightened senses, the sudden preferences for raw meat, a sudden increase in strength?  What do you think that’s all about?” he asked, watching her intently.  Recognition flickered over her face, and she straightened a little in her seat.</p><p>“I did break a mug yesterday,” she admitted.  Ransom nodded slowly, before she added, “I had to work twice as hard to give Harlan his medicine last night.”  All that glass hadn’t been easy to manage, and being steady enough to administer the intravenous medication tested every strength she had as a nurse.  Ransom looked away, unable to keep from thinking, <i>wouldn’t it have been funny if you accidentally killed him?</i>  It would’ve solved his problem, honestly, and he briefly considered how that might’ve played out for him.  Instead, here they were.</p><p>He didn’t voice his macabre thoughts, of course.  When he caught sight of their waitress returning with his drink, he said, “Bet you wish you’d ordered that drink now.”  Marta opened her mouth, but failed to say anything due to the waitress’ arrival.  She set his beer down and lingered, head tipping flirtatiously.</p><p>“Anything else I can get for you?” she asked, twirling a lock of golden brown hair around her finger.  He couldn’t help smirking, but shook his head.</p><p>“Not right now.  Thanks, Sweet Cheeks.”  When she left again, Marta scoffed at him, a little disgusted to see his schmoozing in person (and no, she didn’t miss how he’d used the same pet name with her yesterday).  Ransom’s jaw clenched, and he briefly reprimanded himself for the same.  He was supposed to be seducing Marta, after all, not some one-night stand waitress.  (Yet, anyway.  He could always double back to get her number later).  Twisting in his seat to face Marta more properly, he grabbed his beer for something to hold on to while asking, “What happened?  The night you crashed.”</p><p>Her eyes lifted to his face, dark and inquisitive.  For a fleeting second, he wondered if she suspected him, but no… Marta Cabrera didn’t have a suspicious bone in her body.  She shifted, hands rubbing together between her knees under the table.  She glanced away, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.  He didn’t press her, merely sipped his beer until she was ready to share, “There was an animal.  It jumped in front of me, and I swerved.  And then when I got out…”</p><p>She trailed off, her gaze meeting his again.  He nodded and stared down at the table while he considered his next words.</p><p>“From what I remember, the first month is the worst to adjust to.  After the full moon though, it should get easier,” he said slowly.  Marta blinked several times.  The fact that they were seriously talking about this seemed to have finally sunk in, and Ransom’s knowledge of it had her stiffening again.  </p><p>“How long have you been like this?” He huffed, brows flickering as he brought his beer up again.</p><p>“Years,” he said, before taking a sip.</p><p>“What?  No way,” she scoffed, shaking his head again.  “How is that possible and no one’s noticed?  You – you were there the night of Harlan’s birthday party.”</p><p>“And I left early.  That wasn’t just because I got into a fight with Harlan,” he chuckled, convincingly calm about the whole topic.  He shifted back in his seat, sprawling out again as he shared, “I have a cabin west from here, easy access to the mountains where no one can find me during a full moon.  I cut it close that night, but.”  He shrugged and brought his beer up to his lips again.  Marta fell silent as she tried to process, which benefitted them since the waitress returned with their food.</p><p>She didn’t even really look at it, despite how the scent had her mouth watering and stomach growling.  She just stared at the table while Ransom started to indulge himself, until she couldn’t handle the reflection anymore.  “This can’t be real.  There’s no way this can be real,” she whispered, mostly to herself.  With his own heightened senses though, he heard her perfectly.  His crystal blue eyes flickered over her as he chewed his seared meat contemplatively.  </p><p>“Well, here.  I’ll make you a deal.  Or a bet, I guess,” he said, waiting until he had her rapt attention to continue, “you come with me the next full moon to my cabin.  And if we <i>don’t</i> turn into big, bad wolves you can call me crazy and send me to the looney bin.”   </p><p>“And if we do?” she asked, raising a single brow.  He smiled slowly.</p><p>“If we do, you have to go on a date with me.”</p><p>“W-what?”  Her eyes widened impossible.  “Why the hell would I do that?”  His brows lifted, admittedly more amazed by her borderline rude statement than he was offended.  She seemed to realize her insult and flushed, before adding, “Why would <i>you</i> want to do that?”  He shrugged.</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Then why not just ask me plainly?”</p><p>“Where’s the fun in that?”  Her eyes narrowed on him, now finally suspicious of his peculiarity.  He huffed a breathy chuckle and took another bite of his steak.  “Well?  What do you say?” he asked.  Her lips parted, but she remained silent for several moments as her mind spun around the strange twist in her reality.  What was left of her rationality wanted to convince her this was all just a ruse by the infamous playboy to get her alone in the woods, but she couldn’t deny the truths sitting before her face either.  The way her mouth still watered for the rare food before her, the pain her ears felt under loud music, how Ransom’s scent seemed so potent even now, something about it calling to something new and unsettling within her.</p><p>She blinked, and then swallowed and said, “Alright.  It’s a deal.”  He grinned wolfishly and nodded.  </p><p>“Good.”  With the hand wrapped around his fork, he pointed toward her meal.  “Now eat.  I’m not paying for you to waste a perfectly good meal.”</p><p>“Wow.  Is this what I can expect on a date with you?” Marta asked sardonically, though she did finally shift forward and grabbed for her fork.  Ransom chuffed.</p><p>“Oh Cabrera, you have no idea.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Dinner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thanksgiving is a time for family... and drama, and nobody does drama better than the Thrombeys.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marta didn’t talk to Ransom again until Thanksgiving rolled around.  Harlan requested her presence for the holiday, and since her own family didn’t celebrate the American tradition, she agreed to work for as long as he needed.  She suspected he liked having her presence amongst the chaos that was the Thrombeys, but she didn’t question his motive.  She just steeled herself for the night she was undoubtedly about to have.</p>
<p>In a pair of dark jeans and a wool sweater with gray, tan, and peach stripes, she tied the top half of her hair up into a small ponytail and headed to Harlan’s mansion.  She arrived early to speak with Harlan before the rest of the family arrived.  Since this was the first time everyone was gathering since Harlan’s birthday, they both suspected dinner to be even tenser than usual. </p>
<p>“You know Walt’s asked to come back to the publishing company <i>six</i> times now?  Four of them he made while drunk,” Harlan complained, shaking his head in disappointment as he muddled about his downstairs office.</p>
<p>“You knew it wasn’t going to be easy,” Marta pointed out.</p>
<p>“Yes, but I didn’t expect such a lack of conviction.  I mean I gave him the best start I could!  Put him on retainer, gave him a deadline to make his book – or another project proposal.  But all he does is complain it’s not enough money.”  Marta listened to Harlan vent quietly, her silent support exactly what her patient needed to prepare for a long, arduous family night.  Admittedly, she was a little more nervous than usual, too.</p>
<p>Richard showed up first, just like he had for Harlan’s birthday, and just so the two could get in a screaming match again.  Marta paced outside, anxious for more than Harlan’s heart rate and blood pressure.  Her own seemed to be skyrocketing, vicious agitation running through her veins like she’d never felt before.  She was potently aware of the stench of adrenaline and fear coming off of Richard, and the sound of his shrill voice grated on her nerves worse.  He’d been given a deadline to tell Linda about his affair, and it seemed to have come and gone with him stomping his feet the whole time.</p>
<p>The dogs whined, and gave Marta the hollow leer they gave her any time their distrust of her started mounting.  She stared at them a moment, before she steeled her jittery nerves and marched for the closed office door.  She opened it, drawing two sets of angry eyes to her, but she didn’t shrivel.</p>
<p>“I need to tend to Harlan,” she told Richard plainly.  His jaw clenched, but he took a breath and nodded.</p>
<p>“Of course.  Yeah, of course, Marta,” he said.  His stare lingered on her, even as the two jerkily started to switch places.  When his pale eyes finally flickered over her figure more intently, she finally grew uncomfortable.  Stiffening, she twisted away from him and finished approaching Harlan until he left the two in peace.  She reached for Harlan to take a quick pulse of his vitals (and tried to <i>not</i> freak out over the fact that she’d been able to hear his heartbeat perfectly before she ever laid her fingers on his pulse point).</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Harlan said, begrudgingly and with a sigh.  Marta pursed her lips in a pale smile.  “It seems I will be giving Linda that letter tonight.”</p>
<p>“Maybe at the end of dinner though, hmm?” Marta suggested.  Harlan chuckled and tipped his head in agreement.  She let her hand settle against his shoulder comfortingly.</p>
<p>Their quiet didn’t last for long.  The Thrombeys trickled in one by one.  Linda arrived first to join her husband, and then Walt, Donna, and Jacob.  Linda and Meg arrived minutes before dinner, just as the main table was finished being set up.</p>
<p>Marta knew Ransom would be the last.</p>
<p>She tried not to look for him.  Everyone in the family always anticipated Ransom’s arrival.  He was the ultimate diva through and through, and he showed up late so he could ensure his presence ruffled feathers.  She didn’t want to suddenly become among everyone else who hung on his arrival.  And yet she shifted more than once in her seat through the Thanksgiving appetizer.  </p>
<p>When he arrived, he did little more than stalk into the room and take the empty seat down the table from her, and across from Walt.  She looked him over, trying not to notice how good he looked in his simple blue Henley and black slacks.  He didn’t look her way, didn’t glance at anyone as he started filling his plate.  Ransom always had an ability to disrupt a room, but Marta had never noticed how potently the tension rose around him until this moment.</p>
<p>Once his plate was filled, Ransom settled back into his seat and started eating.  Everyone slowly started to resume doing the same.  Walt, already a few drinks in, narrowed his eyes on his nephew.  </p>
<p>“Are you even still invited to these family dinners?” Walt sneered.  </p>
<p>“Wait, what?” Richard interjected, Linda perking up beside her husband.</p>
<p>“Why wouldn’t he be invited?” Linda asked, flabbergasted Walt would say such a thing.  Ransom tipped his head as he stared his uncle down, teeth biting around his fork to pull the bite of stuffing into his mouth.  He chewed for a moment, but he couldn’t hide his wicked smile for long.  His eyes flickered toward Harlan at the head of the table, the twinkle in his eyes sinister in their teasing.  The patriarch just glared, displeased yet refusing to intervene just yet.</p>
<p>While Ransom considered ruining their big, bad secret, he instead stuck to the public knowledge and bit back, “Weren’t <i>you</i> the one fired from the publishing company?” </p>
<p>“I was put on retainer for a book deal, Asshole!” Walt shouted, slamming his hand down on the table as he rose to the insult.  The advance he’d gotten for his own debut novel paled in comparison to his former salary, but Ransom laughed because they both knew Walt didn’t have even a <i>sliver</i> of an idea for an original book.</p>
<p>Richard rose, eager for the excuse to get into a fight with Walt, and just like that, everyone in the room was shouting at one another.  The noise had Marta jerking back, face twisting in a grimace at the hell it wrought on her ears.  She vaguely wondered how Ransom could stand it, but didn’t stay to find out.  She vacated her seat and left the room, wandered toward the sitting room with its own private fireplace.  </p>
<p>The clock sitting on the mantle ticked at her like she’d never heard before, but it was still better than the screaming she could still hear coming from the dining room.  Marta blew out a breath and traced her fingers along her face while she tried to calm down.  She’d only just started slowing her breathing when she heard footsteps.  Her attention jerked quickly toward the entryway.  Meg stilled as she crossed it, not expecting Marta’s sharp leer.</p>
<p>“You alright?” she asked, offering an apologetic smile.  “It got pretty intense back there.”</p>
<p>“It always seems to,” Marta pointed out, earning a brief chuckle from Meg.</p>
<p>“That’s definitely true,” Meg agreed, stepping further into the room and closer to Marta.  Her head tipped, eyes narrowing a little as she studied Marta with an appreciative smile.  “You know, most people would’ve gone running for the hills by now.  Outside of Fran, I don’t think anyone’s lasted this long putting up with our family as a whole.”  She stepped closer, close enough that their arms nearly brushed.  “It’s impressive.”</p>
<p>Marta smiled, but then her nostrils flared at the scent suddenly permeating through the air.  Past Meg’s expensive skin scream and natural perfume was something else.  Something heady, but distinctly human – sweat and hormones she’d never dreamed of being able to detect.  A sweet, tangy musk that Marta quickly registered was lust.</p>
<p>Speechless, she stared at Meg and blinked.  Meg’s brows lifted, her curious smile lingering a beat before she stepped closer.  This time, Marta stepped back.  “I guess I’m not most people,” she stammered, not fully thinking her response through as she stumbled around and toward the door.</p>
<p>“No, you’re definitely not,” Meg agreed, a twinkle in her eye Marta had never seen before – or maybe never cared to notice.  </p>
<p>“I just mean that it’s no trouble, really.  I care deeply for Harlan-“ she startled herself when she suddenly bumped into the wall and her hip knocked into a pedestal.  The vase precariously balanced atop of said mount teetered dangerously and nearly fell.  Marta’s hands snapped up to still it before it had a chance.</p>
<p>“Wow.  Good reflexes,” Meg huffed, smile a little dewy.  Marta offered a timid smile back.</p>
<p>“We should probably get back to dinner before the food gets cold,” Marta said next.  Jabbing her finger over her shoulder, she added, “Sounds like the screaming’s died down.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Meg seemed a little disappointed, but she followed Marta toward the dining room.  Marta took a detour to the bathroom, just to take another minute to breathe in peace.  She bowed her head forward, and then back as she tried to slow her breathing and focused on the scent of vanilla and something stingingly artificial from the hand soap on the sink’s counter.  </p>
<p>When she felt steady enough to join the dinner again, she made it into the room just as Richard was stepping out.  Despite the breadth of space in the passageway, he stepped close enough to her to brush their sides together, his hand reaching out to touch her back in an innocuous motion to steady them both.  She still stiffened and glanced after him peculiarly, the gravelly, “S’cuse me, Kiddo,” lingering in her ear uncomfortably.</p>
<p>When she turned back toward the dining table, she finally found Ransom’s eyes on her.  Sharp and brilliant, he glared at her for several moments before a chillingly wicked smile slowly curved his lips.  Unnerved, she abruptly took her seat to escape his leer.</p>
<p>Beneath the table, Meg reached out to touch her knee.  She jolted, eyes going wide for a fraction of a second before Ransom stole Meg’s attention away by stealing the last dinner roll out from under her fingers.  </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Dinner passed by without further incident, at least any noteworthy ones.  Even so, dealing with the entire Thrombey clan was a taxing event.  Their ‘civil’ conversations were usually laced with some kind of insult or condescending undertone.  When Marta wearied of it again, she wandered off.  She never drifted far since she was still technically working, and wanted to be close by in case Harlan needed her.  </p>
<p>But she left the sitting room the Thrombeys usually retired to continue their bickering and slipped into Harlan’s office.  It was close enough that she could still hear the family through the open doorway, now more acutely than ever before.  She still wasn’t used to her heightened senses, and it left her breathing heavily.  Harlan’s cologne, the remnants of a fire, and the age of old books, leather, and wood surrounded her in the smaller space.</p>
<p>She almost wanted to retreat outside for a breath of fresh air, but when she turned, she found Richard standing in the doorway.  He seemed surprised for a moment, before he smiled and chuckled.  She didn’t miss the strain in his voice.</p>
<p>“What are you doing in here, Kiddo?” he asked, taking a step closer.</p>
<p>“I was just…” she trailed off and looked around.  She didn’t really have a good answer, and didn’t want to share she was taking a break from them.  When she looked back at him, she noticed his eyes tearing away from Harlan’s desk.  Brows furrowing a little, she asked, “Were you looking for something?”</p>
<p>“What?  No.  No, of course not,” Richard said, taking another step forward.  He took a deep breath of air and awkwardly hung on it, like he didn’t know how to follow that up.  His wide blue eyes roved over Marta, and then he straightened a little, his smile warming in a way that made her stomach curdle.  “Just came to see how you were doing.  Shame you’re working tonight, although you know we all love seeing you.”</p>
<p>“My family doesn’t celebrate, so I don’t mind being here.”</p>
<p>“Ah.”  He nodded, eyes flickering down her figure as he made it within two feet of her.  Richard smelled too strongly of chemical cologne that she almost took a step back, but underneath she got a whiff of the same sweet musk from before and couldn’t help freezing.  Her eyes went wide as Richard said, “Well, lucky us.” </p>
<p>Ransom stepped through the office door, his presence commanding enough that both Marta and Richard instinctively looked toward him.  His icy eyes were honed in on his father, and for a second, all Marta could see was the predator he claimed to be. </p>
<p>“Mom’s looking for you,” he said in the next moment, calm, lazy, and haughty like the man she’d known for the last five years.  She actually blinked, as if her eyes were to blame for the faulty visage.  Richard frowned and tensed, and she couldn’t tell whether that was because of Ransom or Linda.  He breezed by his son and vacated the room, and Ransom’s gaze flickered to her.  For some reason, the amused smirk that quirked his lips made her completely crack.</p>
<p>“What the hell is going on?” she asked, stumbling toward the nearest surface.  She brought he hand up to her forehead, the other reaching out to settle against one of the chair’s near the office’s personal fireplace.  Ransom huffed, his brows lifting as he sauntered into the room.</p>
<p>“Well, it <i>looks</i> like my cousin and dad have the hots for you,” he pointed out, before flaring his arms out in a dramatic fashion.  “Congrats, you have many-a-Thrombey trying to get in your pants.”</p>
<p>“Ew,” she said, more to his crude summary than the actual truth - that bit just confused her.  Ransom still laughed, delighted by her immediate disgust.  She shook her head, the only question running through her head being, “Why now?”  She looked to Ransom then, and startled a little finding he’d circled behind her.  She shifted to face him, instinctively taking a step back as he took long, slow steps toward her.  Lips pursing at her question, he tilted his head and shrugged slowly.</p>
<p>“Call it… animal attraction,” he purred.  She scoffed, but then she remembered what it had been like when she first met Ransom.  Never in her life had she felt so overcome by desire for a stranger.  She wasn’t the type to get worked up over a handsome face and hot body, but the first time she saw him, she’d actually pressed her thighs together to try and stifle the way her body throbbed for him.  She’d been stricken, beside herself and fumbling with how stunning he seemed.</p>
<p>And then he’d opened his mouth, and well… the spell was over after that.  </p>
<p>Or it <i>had</i> been.  She stumbled back into Harlan’s desk before she realized Ransom had continued to corral her.  Her heart slammed against her chest as her hands gripped around the edge of the desk to steady her as her lips parted stupidly.  Their eyes met, Ransom’s gaze so intense she felt like a captive to the blue depths.  </p>
<p>“You know what might scare them off?” he asked, stepping into her space, close enough that he could curl his hands around the desk, just outside of her own grip.  Her breath stuttered, and she felt dizzy from his potent, mouth-watering scent of clove and charcoal.  His eyes grew hooded as he searched her face, focus intent on her plump lips as he murmured, “If you got with someone… more your type.”</p>
<p>“You’re not my type.”  In that moment, she still believed it, because that mouth of his always ruined it.  <i>That mouth</i>, which was currently curving up in a sly half-smirk that had her heart pounding harder.</p>
<p>“Honey, I’m everyone’s type.”  Before she could think to respond, Ransom snagged her lips in a heated kiss.  Her brows lifted, and she almost leaned away, but his arm circled around her back and he pressed them together, and his lips moved against hers so expertly that she groaned.  She sunk against him, swept away by just how <i>good</i> he felt.  Soft lips, a hard body, warmth radiating from him like a furnace on a cold night, and <i>God</i> did he smell good.</p>
<p>Her fingers curled into the thin cotton of his Henley, nails pressing into rippling muscles that had her mouth watering.  Her lips instinctively parted, and he took advantage by diving his tongue into her mouth.  She groaned again, arching into him to press their bodies flush together.  He growled in response, a thrilling noise that had her stomach fluttering with excitement.  </p>
<p>Arm coiling tightly around her narrow waist, Ransom lifted her up half an inch and pushed her into a seat on the desk.  She didn’t even notice the items they nudged out of the way, messing up Harlan’s meticulously organized desk in their sudden frenzy for one another.  His hips pressed forward, parting her legs around him and rubbing their groins together in a maddening friction.  Desire swept through Marta in a wildfire.  She felt like she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t dare break the kiss – she deepened it instead, pressing into him just as desperately as he did. </p>
<p>Their tongues slid together in a rabid dance.  Ransom felt Marta’s legs hiked up his waist, dragging him in deeper.  He groaned, and then panted as the need for air grew too great.  He didn’t let the broken kiss go to waste.  His lips dove for her neck, kissing sweetly along her soft skin.  She arched her neck invitingly, body rolling against his in pure instinct.  It encouraged him to mouth at her more intently, until he found a sweet spot that had her mewling.</p>
<p>She bucked against him, and he smirked against her skin before honing in on the spot.  Her cunt throbbed, ached and grew wet as he spent a sinful amount of time licking, suckling, and nipping at the pleasure point just above the indent between her neck and shoulder.  She was so dizzy with pleasure, she didn’t even realize he was working a dark, telling hickey into her neck.  But when his hand suddenly clamped around her ass and he dragged her against his hardened cock more forcefully, she choked.</p>
<p>Just as Linda’s shrieked, “Ransom?  What the hell are you doing?!”</p>
<p>Marta felt like her heart was about to stop, even though Ransom’s lips left her skin.  He twisted his head toward the office door and watched as, one by one, his family members were called to the scene by his mother’s shrill voice.  His eyes glinted, a subtle smile toying with the edges of his lips while Marta looked to their spectators with horror.  Eyes wide and fingers now fisted into Ransom’s shirt, she couldn’t even think to unwind her legs from him until he pulled back.</p>
<p>Her feet clapped to the floor, and she caught sight of Harlan’s pensive expression surveying the situation.  A shameful blush erupted onto her cheeks and she averted her eyes to the floor, still blissfully unaware of the dark bruise on the side of her neck.  Ransom watched his grandfather study it though, and when the old man’s gaze flickered toward him, he smiled wickedly.  </p>
<p>His family broke out in their usual squawking, looking for answers and condemning him for his horrible behavior.  He didn’t care about any of them, just his grandfather’s darkening stare.  His own eyes glinted in challenge.  <i>Your move, Old Man.  Go ahead and tell her before you’re ready</i>.  He walked forward and bypassed his family members, snagging his coat off the rack at the door and leaving the mess he’d made behind without another word.</p>
<p>Leaving Marta to deal with it alone, only Harlan had no intention of allowing that.  “Everybody get out.  I need to speak with Marta,” he barked.  They shockingly all complied, no doubt because they assumed she was about to get fired… and truthfully, so did she.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Cabin, Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“We’re about to change into werewolves, Marta.  What do you think is going to happen to our clothes?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marta looked out the passenger window of Ransom’s beamer, her backpack of effects for a long weekend (which happened to be smack in the middle of the week thanks to the moon cycle) set atop her lap.  Her fingers wrung around it nervously.  Aside from the coming full moon… and the fact that she was alone in a car with <i>Ransom</i>, heading up into the woods and mountains where no one would find them for possibly days… and she somehow had to explain that to both Harlan and her family in a way that <i>didn’t</i> sound like a romantic getaway or setup for a horror movie… she had that conversation from Thanksgiving stuck in her head. </p><p>
  <i>”Marta.  I don’t think I need to tell you to be wary of Ransom’s intentions with you, do I?” Harlan pleaded, once everyone had left.  He paced behind his desk while she stood in the middle of the room, hands folded together while she tried not to combust from shame.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“No.  Harlan, I- wait, are you not firing me?”  She’d been dumbfounded.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Fire?  Goodness, no.  No.  I just wanted to make sure you’ve considered the possibility that Ransom may want something from you,” Harlan shared cautiously, stupefying Marta further.  Sure, Ransom had asked her on a date, and she knew the reputation he had for being a playboy.  Harlan’s concern for her seemed a bit archaic in that regard, but she couldn’t think of another reason he’d be worried.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Do you not want me to see him?” she asked, hoping for some clarification.  Harlan paused, and hesitated a moment before he answered.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“No, that’s not what I’m saying.  To be frank, I think you could be good for Ransom.  You taught this old dog some manners.”  He offered her a smile then, before he said, “Surely you could do it with him.  But sadly, I must attest that he could just as easily be bad for you, and the last thing I want to see, Marta, is you getting hurt.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I can take care of myself.”  Harlan chuckled and smiled fondly at her answer.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Oh, yes.  I know you can.”</i>
</p><p>She didn’t feel like it <i>now</i>.  She looked over at Ransom, at the stern lines of his profile as he focused on the winding roads.  Civilization slipped away and trees grew all around them until she didn’t recognize where they were.  And still, they drove.  Eventually, he turned onto a dirt road she’d hardly even seen and drove carefully along the hidden path.  She was amazed the beamer handled the terrain so smoothly, and that Ransom dared use his car for such an underdeveloped road in the first place.</p><p>At the end of the long driveway was the cabin he’d promised.  It seemed modest on the outside, which she hadn’t really expected.  Just a simple single-story wooden cabin, with dark plates of wood and a large row of windows she could glimpse part of a living room and kitchen through.  It seemed quaint, and that had a smile unexpectedly gracing her lips.</p><p>“Have you always had this?” she asked while he parked in front of the house.</p><p>“Since I was twenty-one,” he said, sharing the rest while they grabbed their things.  “It was my Uncle Neil’s.  Harlan attached it to my trust fund for when I became of the legal drinking age.  He probably didn’t want me throwing parties here before then,” Ransom shared, shrugging as he got out of the car.  </p><p>Marta followed him, shutting the door behind her before she said, “I assume you’ve never thrown a party here, if you think it’s safe for us to be here.”  Ransom paused to look back at her, his expression unreadable for a moment.</p><p>“No.  I haven’t.  I did remodel it though.”  He smirked, and just like that, the awing depth she might’ve glimpsed was gone.  He opened the thick wooden door, and she followed him into the cabin.  The interior was what she’d expect of Ransom.  Expensive marble counters, pristine and minimalistic furniture, polished wood floors and fixtures.  She looked at the sleek kitchen barstools and black suede couch, the fur rug he had beneath the glass coffee table, and the designer art framed on the walls.</p><p>She somehow felt out of her element and like she was being seduced into a state of comfort by the ambiance at the same time.</p><p>“Well… make yourself comfortable, rest up if you can.  We have a long trek tonight,” Ransom’s voice startled her out of her trance, and his words shocked her further.  </p><p>Twisting around to face him, she asked, “You mean… we’re not changing h-here?”</p><p>“Do you think you’ll be shifting into a kitten?” he asked, brows lifting incredulously.  Laughing, Ransom shook his head.  “No.  Here’s just the base camp.  Where we prepare, and sleep it off tomorrow.  For the moon, we need to go higher up from here, where no one runs the risk of stumbling onto us.”  He disappeared into the kitchen then, to check on what he had stocked from his last visit.  Marta stared at him for a moment, unsure what to do with herself.  Her fingers tapped against the strap of her bag, before she glanced toward the hallway leading toward the cabin’s rooms.</p><p>She walked down it and found a bathroom on her left.  Across the hall was an office, with a bookshelf-butler pantry hybrid, and an L-shaped desk with one of the most plush leather chairs she’d ever seen.  The next door on the right seemed like part mini-theater, part game room, with a large flat screen TV, thick reclining chairs, and a bunch of video game equipment Marta would never be able to discern.  The last door on the left opened up to the master bedroom and bathroom, and she immediately realized a problem.</p><p>“Ransom?”  She returned to the main room to find Ransom staring at her, feigning ignorance.  She stood there stupidly for a moment, before her knuckles tightened around her bag strap and she said, “There’s only one bed.”</p><p>“You can take the couch if you want,” he said plainly, bright blue eyes staring at her the way a wolf did its prey.  Intent, hungry, daring her to make her move.  Her stomach flipped, and she promptly took the couch.  She actually shook her body – like a damn dog – to try and rid herself of his unsettling comment.</p><p>Because she couldn’t help herself from wondering… did he want her to sleep in his bed with him?    </p><p>It was impossible to rest after that.  Between his rudeness, the unclear (possibly nonexistent) invitation to bed spiraling through her mind, and the impending ‘change’ of the night, Marta was fretful, to say the least.  All too soon dusk fell, and shortly after that, Ransom said, “Let’s go.”</p><p>With only the clothes on their back, they hiked up the mountain, the thick forest and partially cloudy sky making it particularly dark on that full moon night.  Marta tried not to be freaked out by how well she could still see, rocks and twigs along their path having discernible definition within the shadows.  Her breath didn’t waver very much either, the laborious, never-ending hike a breeze for her body.</p><p>As she glanced toward a beam of moonlight pouring through a break in the canopy, Marta asked, “Shouldn’t we have changed already?”</p><p>“Nah.  The moon has to be at a certain point in the sky.  Time changes a bit through the year, but generally it takes place around midnight… lasts until five am.”</p><p>“Huh.”  They fell silent again, and eventually reached a plateau, both in the mountain and forest.  As they came into the clearing, Marta couldn’t help saying, “Oh wow.”  This high up, patches of snow speckled the deadened ground.  A few leafless trees scattered around the shores of a half frozen lake before them, the mountaintop jutting upward on the lake’s other side.  “This is – it’s beautiful.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Ransom agreed, a half-smirk gracing his face.  “Hidden treasure, too.  The climb tends to dissuade most hikers.  This whole mountain range is pretty secluded, so we’ll be safe.”  He moved toward a egg-shaped boulder nearby and stripped his cable-knit sweater off, which she finally realized was all he’d brought with him.  At seeing his pale, bulging muscles come into stunning view in the moonlight, Marta blanched.</p><p>“What are you doing?!”</p><p>“Taking my clothes off,” he said with a laugh, and Marta abruptly looked away as he shucked his pants to the ground.  Cheeks flaring with heat, she brought her hand up to the side of her face to better shield her from him.  He glanced at her and laughed again.  “We’re about to change into werewolves, Marta.  What do you think is going to happen to our clothes?”  She had no idea what to say to that, and felt her stomach drop when he added, “Unless you want to walk back to the cabin tomorrow naked, I suggest you do the same.”</p><p><i>Well</i>.  </p><p>The skeptical part of her brain tried to argue this was just a ploy to get her naked.  She hesitated, because that <i>did</i> seem way more logical than <i>you’re about to turn into a werewolf</i> did.  Bile built up her throat, for once having nothing to do with the act of lying.  She slipped her coat off her shoulders, and set it down on the opposite side of the boulder.  Painfully slow, she stripped the rest of her clothes off, doing her damnedest to keep her eyes glued to the ground.</p><p>Ransom wasn’t so charitable, his eyes flickering over her slender figure.  He smirked when she covered all the juicy bits, an arm clamped horizontally over her fleshy tits, and her other hand cupped between her legs.  Like it did anything to hide how soft and alluring her curvaceous form was.  Chuckling to himself, he finally looked away and up toward the moon.</p><p>“You can’t even feel it, can you?  The cold,” Ransom asked, closing his eyes.  He held his hands out at his sides, reveling in the freedom.  Marta glanced at him, momentarily distracted by how ethereal he looked in the moonlight, his sculpted muscles a mouthwatering sight.  It took her a moment to realize he was right.  She’d been so distracted by the vulnerability, she didn’t even realize the frigid air hardly bit at her exposed skin.</p><p>Her mouth opened, but before she could speak, she cried out.  Her body seized, crippling her to her knees as her guts twisted and her joints ached.  Ransom huffed, and slowly shifted his gaze to look down at her.  “It’s time,” he murmured, before Marta let out another cry.  Her fingernails suddenly throbbed like an exposed wound.  Her jaws ached, and her body went through another painful twisting sensation.  It was too hard to make sense of all the places where she hurt, and she watched in slow motion as her nails grew to claws, and her mouth filled with sharp teeth.</p><p>She looked up, desperate to see something that might help her cling to reality, only to see Ransom’s body bulking up.  His bones jerked beneath his skin, muscles expanding as thick follicles of fur grew from his skin.  His legs curled, hands and feet growing padded underbellies and terrifying claws.  His scream turned into a mournful howl as his mouth and nose extended into a snout of drooling fangs.</p><p>When his transformation was finally complete, he stood nearly twice as tall as he was, a thick, bushy tail swishing behind him as he turned to look at her, sharply pointed ears erect, and still too-blue eyes eager.  His thick fur was the same color as his hair, rich and brown, and did little to hide the thick muscles that hinted at a man within the beast.</p><p>Marta couldn’t help thinking, in some strange way, he was beautiful.</p><p>Then, she screamed and curled into herself.  Her muscles erupted and bones broke, and from her flesh a beast grew, black, and beautiful, and with eyes as golden as the sun.  Ransom gave a snarl, and then howled to the moon.  As Marta pushed up onto her haunches, she joined in his call, before the two charged forward, racing further up the mountain.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Any Cut Me Open fans like the headcanon drop with the cabin I altered for the premise of this story? xD  Yes, I am a total geek and am tickled by my repurposing.  Oops.</p><p>Also, I really did NOT intend to pull the 'there was only 1 bed' trope, and I legit started cackling when it came out.  Double oops.</p><p>Hope you liked the chapter!  Kudos and comments give me life &lt;3 And thank you all for still reading this!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Cabin, Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Filth.  This is straight fucking filth xD</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea by MISSIO is 100% the inspo for this entire chapter, so I highly recommend you take a listen.</p>
<p>And with this chapter, I wish you all a Happy Halloween and a Happy Kinktober, because I couldn't rightly skip posting in this story for this month with any sort of dignity.  Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marta’s breath hitched as she came to.  Eyes wide, she jerked up from where she laid in the dirt and looked around.  She had no concept of time, and couldn’t really piece together where she even was as she looked at their mountain plateau, the lake before them perfectly still.  The world was gray and just beginning to lighten, though sunrise wouldn’t be warm this morning with the thick cloud cover that had rolled in at some point.</p>
<p>When her flitting gaze finally fell to her own trembling fingers, the tears welled.  Red-handed held a new meaning in her world, the drying blood staining her palm confusing and horrifying all at once.  She couldn’t see the crimson coating her face and neck, but she could taste copper in her throat, and wished she felt sicker to her stomach that she did.  Instead, she felt numb, save the hot tears that stung at her eyes and dripped down her cheeks.</p>
<p>Movement startled her.  She flinched and looked to where Ransom sat up, his light skin and eyes a heart-stopping contrast to the blood smeared around his lips, his chin, smudged against his chest…</p>
<p>“Come on,” he murmured, holding a hand out for her to take.  Lip trembling, she stared at his crimson-coated palm before reaching out with a shaky hand.  She slid her palm against his, and let his fingers wind around her.  She kept her other arm crossed over her chest, more to simply hug herself now than feign any sort of modesty.  He pulled her to her feet, and guided her toward the lake.  </p>
<p>One step at a time, they both sunk into the freezing waters.  Like the chilled air, the temperature didn’t affect her skin the way it would’ve as a human.  If anything, the ice water seemed to act as a soothing balm to her body, which passed her numbing shock felt raw and overheated. The development didn’t lessen her trembling any.  </p>
<p>They waded in waist deep before Ransom let go of her to start wiping the blood off his skin with handfuls of water.  He rubbed his hands together and scrubbed his chest and chin, before he finally succumbed and fell forward.  Marta watched him sink beneath the water and swim off.  The moment of solitude seemed to shock her out of her stupor.  Blinking, she looked around and stiffly started to do the same.</p>
<p>Unsure how bad the damage was (and unable to face it), she followed Ransom’s lead and sunk beneath the water before she rubbed at her face, neck, and chest.  When she broke the surface for a gulp of air, she continued her harsh massaging.  Ransom popped up a few feet away from her.  His eyes settled on her as his head sunk back into the water up to his nose while he coyly waded closer to her.  </p>
<p>She searched his vibrant eyes for a moment, frowning.  “What’s this from?” she asked, holding up her hand.  Most of the blood had rinsed off, but enough of a stain lingered to make her meaning clear.  Ransom lifted his head enough so his shining lips could speak.</p>
<p>“Herd of deer.”  He left it at that, and Marta couldn’t ask a follow up question just yet.  She stared at the water, ignoring how Ransom drifted closer and closer.</p>
<p>“How do you know?  I can’t remember anything.”</p>
<p>“It’s like that in the beginning.  Dunno why, exactly.  It just takes time to acclimate, but you’ll start remembering more a few months in,” he said.  She finally looked at him, and stilled realizing there was only a few inches of water between them.  His arms moved lazily, and he stood up a little straighter beneath the water, which helped him stand a little taller than Marta.  She tried not to notice how the water cascaded down his perfectly chiseled chest.  </p>
<p>“It was kinda nice having someone else around,” he murmured, searching her face.  He licked his lips, and held back a smile when Marta looked.  She didn’t look away until he inched forward, and that was only to look into his dilated blue eyes.  Her own grew darker, his proximity and his sharp scent mixed with the diluted blood in the water making her body feel potently heated again.  Her chest heaved, and she instinctively arched up as Ransom bowed to kiss her. </p>
<p>Their tongues brushed together, the tinge of copper adding something sinful to the otherwise tender kiss.  Marta’s breath hitched, her heart pounding as her morals battled her aching desire.  Her nails grazed his chest, the smooth, firm plane enticing.  His hand found her hip under the water, and he pulled her against him.  She felt his hardened cock bump the inside of her thigh and pulled back.</p>
<p>“Not here,” she whispered.  A mirthful glint flashed in his eyes.  He kept his smile muted as he fell back into the water and swam away.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Their walk back to the cabin was quiet.  Her clothes clung to her wet skin, but she hardly noticed the uncomfortable way they snagged and twisted in places.  Marta’s mind felt foggy, her thoughts swimming together nonsensically.  She didn’t know how she was supposed to make sense of any of this – being a werewolf, her attraction to Ransom, none of it.</p>
<p>When they made it into Ransom’s cabin, he encouraged her to leave her coat on the rack beside the front door.  He took her hand then, and led her into his bedroom.  She didn’t think to question him or his motives; he’d gotten her this far.  His hand slipped from hers as he reached the sink, and retrieved a spare toothbrush from underneath the cabinets.  When he handed it to her, she accepted it without thinking about the one she had stored in her bag in the other room.</p>
<p>They brushed their teeth side by side until Ransom went to the opposite side of the bathroom to turn his rain shower on.  He slid the glass door of the shower stall partially closed so the dark linoleum floor wouldn’t get wet.  He spit the foamy toothpaste into the sink before rinsing his mouth, and then stepped aside for Marta to finish.  It was obvious she was still in a haze as she robotically bowed over the sink to finish cleaning her mouth out.</p>
<p>When she stood and tried to look at herself in the mirror, Ransom grabbed her hips and twisted her toward him.  Her big brown eyes lifted, searching his face, expression unreadable.  He held her gaze as his fingers folded around the hem of her sweater.  She didn’t protest, so he slowly inched the material up her still damp skin.  It flopped to the ground unceremoniously a moment later.  His hands slid back toward her hips and he stepped closer.</p>
<p>Finally, some of her senses came back to her.</p>
<p>Her breath hitched on his scent, heady in the enclosed space.  She could practically taste the heat of his skin, and brought her fingers up to slip beneath his own shirt.  His abs flexed beneath her fingertips, and she swallowed against a dry throat.  Dark eyes lifted to watch his own blue irises diminish, lust pooling in his pupils.  Their lips met, and the mint of his toothpaste permeated into his intoxicating scent.  Moaning, her tongue slipped out to tangle with his in a languid, lewd dance.</p>
<p>His arms bound around her narrow waist as he backed her toward the shower, step by step.  When she felt the steam on her back, they finally parted long enough to shed the rest of their clothes.  They stepped into the shower, the thick, heavy spray of water warm and comforting in a way that immediately relaxed Marta’s muscles.  Ransom’s, on the other hand, hardened with anticipation.</p>
<p>He didn’t pounce, as much as he wanted to.  Marta still seemed a little numb, so he reached for the soap and brought it to her skin.  She craned her head back to look at him as he slid the bar along her navel, the water helping suds to build against her skin.  He inched her forward enough that it wouldn’t immediately rinse off as he moved his wrist in gentle circles to paint her skin.</p>
<p>Her breath hitched when the soap glided up her sternum.  He tilted his head to watch her lashes flutter while he spent some time soaping where the blood had been.  His vibrant eyes watched her expression as he slid the soap over her right breast.  She gasped, her body jerking minutely.  He smiled as it arched her chest further into his hold.  He circled the soap around her fleshy tit, thumb stroking languidly over her nipple in the process.</p>
<p>Moaning, Marta felt her cunt suddenly ache, heat and need building in her core almost painfully.  Ransom tilted his head toward her hair and breathed in deeply, her scent making his mouth water.  He slipped the soap into his other hand so he could suds her opposite breast while his freed hand took advantage of their slick flesh to massage her breast in earnest.  She arched into his teasing further, mewling with need as her nipples hardened and her slit began to wet.</p>
<p>She grabbed his hand as he moved the soap toward her hip, pausing him so she could turn and face him.  He stilled, curious, so she pressed her slippery flesh against his torso.  The way their heated skin slid together had them both ravenous.  Free hand squeezing into her plump rear, he pulled her up to meet his lips in a heated kiss.  She met it readily, arms winding around his neck to squeeze their bodies together harder.  </p>
<p>Groaning, Ransom barely had the wherewithal to set the soap aside before his arms wrapped around her.  He pulled her up, the water beating between their bodies in a way that both washed the soap away and added a new sensuality to their embrace.  Ransom’s fingers sifted into Marta’s drenched hair, his other arm binding around the small of her back in a snare.  He felt her legs lift, threatening to coil around his waist.  Before she could, he swiveled toward the wall and pressed Marta against the steely tile.</p>
<p>Her breath hitched before their lips meshed together again, tongues messily swiping between the heady lip-lock.  Ransom broke the kiss so he could nibble along her broad jaw and devour her neck.  His arm pressed against the curve of her back to arch her upward, and his mouth hungrily enveloped her breast.  Throbbing with a new wave of desire, Marta moaned at the sinful heat of his mouth, his tongue swirling her nipple lewdly.</p>
<p>When he popped off, he panted, “I like the taste of you better.”  Marta could hardly piece together he was deterred by the soap residue on her skin because he dropped to his knees.  Before she knew it, his strong arms parted her legs and lifted her up several inches against the wall, nothing but the bulk of his body and broad shoulders supporting her weight.</p>
<p>“Wonder what you really taste like,” he murmured, eyes blackened as his lips neared her slicked folds.  Her eyes popped wide, body jerking with anticipation.  Her legs twitched futilely, bound by his hold, and her hands ensnared his hair to help balance her suspended weight as his lips nudged into her dewy center.</p>
<p>“Ransom,” she gasped, heart rate skyrocketing.  She moaned next, writhing against the wall as his tongue licked a flat, hard line into her hidden, heated flesh.  Her nerves sang to life, her cunt pulsing another wave of arousal out of her.  When his tongue probed past her slit to taste her velvety walls, she couldn’t stop her fingers from twisting his messy brown locks.  The deep rumble that ruptured from his chest and vibrated against her wet skin had her bucking against his face.  </p>
<p>His nose nudged her clit, and then his tongue swiftly followed, circling the erecting nub until she shrieked a plea to heaven in Spanish.  Invigorated, Ransom flattened his tongue against her clit and pulled his hand away from its vice grip against her ass to plunge two fingers into her dripping entrance.  She shrieked then, unable to do anything but hold on for dear life as he fucked a literal fire into her belly.  Her walls already began to spasm by the time he twisted his fingers and found her G-spot.</p>
<p>He lapped up her orgasm while she cried in bliss, but left her whimpering and empty by removing his fingers too soon.  It was only so he could lift to his feet, one arm manhandling her leg up and further apart from the other he let drop back toward the floor.  His free hand grabbed his cock, precome dripping from the tip eagerly.  In one swift, steady motion, he speared into Marta and watched her eyes widen with a sick sense of pride.  </p>
<p>The thick, hard weight of him made Marta’s body come to life in ways she’d never felt before.  She expected it to burn with how big he was, when he finally bottomed out reaching inside her so deep she felt her fucking soul ache.  Instead, she felt ready to tremble apart with how full and euphoric she felt.  Her cunt twitched, clenching around him to drench both of them with another flood of slick.  He grinned at the way her reddened lips parted, but she didn’t have the wits to process the cocky look when he canted his hips back.</p>
<p>He drilled into her slowly, ensuring they both felt every miniscule drag of flesh.  Moaning low and languid, Marta’s nails dug into his shoulders as his hips snapped into hers, pace steadily picking up.  Both their ears sang with the clap of their hips, and the almost embarrassing slurp her cunt made every time it gobbled his cock up.  Snarling low in the back of his throat, Ransom thrust into her harder, chasing his pleasure greedily and dragging her along for the ride.  Marta cried out when he hit her particularly deep, and brought her dangling leg up on her own accord to brace for his next plunge.</p>
<p>Her thighs squeezing against his hips, he fucked into her heartily after that, watching her body bounce against the wall with each thrust, cheeks a flushed mess and eyes sparkling with her wanton desire.  The way his breath rattled past his lips was the only indication of his deteriorating state.  He felt rapture tingling up his spine, but he wasn’t done taking yet.  Lips snagging Marta’s in another greedy kiss, he swallowed her stuttered moans and nipped the bruised flesh even redder until his hips locked.  </p>
<p>Cock shoving into her deep, his whole body coiled with pleasure as his orgasm released.  A choked moan escaped him at the crux of his climax, his body shuddering despite the heated water spray beside them.  Dizzy with pleasure, he could do nothing but cling to her for a second, their foreheads pressed together in a desperate attempt to ground their senses.  All they could smell was each other though, the pungent stench of sex mucking up their thoughts further.</p>
<p>Ransom hummed, sated and content.  His muscles relaxed, body weight pressing against Marta in a way that had her mewling, involuntary and sweet.  Licking his lips, he nosed her cheek, lips brushing against her skin until he found hers.  The kiss they shared then was tender, and it had Marta’s heart palpitating.  She couldn’t process the dewy feeling that coursed through her numbing limbs, but she searched Ransom’s face as he drew back.</p>
<p>He flashed a smile, and eased her to her feet so they could separate and properly clean up from their various adventures.  By the time they exited the shower and wrapped towels around themselves, Ransom realized something amiss.  </p>
<p>Marta was quiet, and hadn’t fully looked at him since that kiss.  Brows furrowing, he reached out and grabbed her arm before she could try to escape through the bedroom door.  She twisted toward him, eyes wide and curious as to what he wanted.  He didn’t know what the fuck to make of that, and it almost pissed him off.  Usually women looked at him like he was the goddamn twinkle in their eye after they fucked.  They wanted to cling to him, snuggle next to him, and all around consume his attention.</p>
<p>Marta’s attempt to flee invigorated his senses once again.  He pulled her toward his bed, watching her as she followed silently.  She didn’t resist, but she didn’t really react either as they twirled closer to the mattress.  She just watched him, studying him with a passive eye.  Lip twitching, he reached for her towel and unbound it.  It fell without protest, and she stood before him naked and unfazed, her chin tilted up indifferently.</p>
<p>His hands found their way to her thighs, and he pulled her legs apart as he lifted her up, encouraging her to straddle his exposed abdomen.  When her eyes instinctively lowered to watch them flex, he knew he had some sway, but his tactic changed completely.  He carried her to bed slowly, and eased her onto his dark sapphire covers with care.  Finally her eyes sparkled, curiosity getting the better of her as she watched him mount her, his own towel sliding to the floor.</p>
<p>Ransom never made love, but he knew what to do.  He knew what women wanted, and how to play the part, and for the first time ever… he tried to fill it.  All of this would be for naught if Marta didn’t care at the end of this.  So he reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together beside her head.  He dipped down and kissed her for all he was worth, and felt a little thrill when she breathed in deep and pressed up into the kiss.  Their tongues danced, a tenderness to each brush of skin he couldn’t have been bothered with when their need was high and ration still abandoned to the wind.    </p>
<p>When his body rolled against hers, she moaned.  Her flesh was tender, but she didn’t care.  The freedom his fuck had granted her from her terrifying reality was enough for her to hike her legs over his hips again and invite him in.  Even he groaned when he slid inside her again, the slick both their come created intoxicating his sense of touch.  His whole body tingled as his hips languidly bucked.</p>
<p>“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he whispered, meaning it.  Marta blinked lazily, her lips parting when his cock shoved into her hard enough to stimulate her G-spot again.</p>
<p>“There,” she breathed.  Her hands slid up his biceps, felt his chest flex when he rocked into her again, and again.  Body arching, she tried to make him hit deeper, harder.  And then her legs flexed, binding around his hips in a vice as her core twisted, her instincts taking over to flip their positions.  Ransom blinked, surprised to so fluidly be on his back, Marta’s knees pressing into the mattress around him.  She almost looked surprised as well, but as she sunk down onto him, all thought left her as his cock kissed her cervix and hugged her walls <i>just</i> right.</p>
<p>Sighing, she bowed her head and set her hands to his chest, hiking her body up on her thighs.  His breath hitched, eyes growing impossibly darker as he watched her ride his cock.  His hands slid along her sides in encouragement, hips reflexively bucking along with her movements.  To spur her along, he dipped one hand along her stomach and brushed her clit with his thumb.  A ragged moan rewarded him, and her cunt fluttered around him as she slipped up and down his cock.  </p>
<p>He couldn’t take it.  He shot up from the bed before he realized what he was doing, arm binding around Marta’s curvaceous figure to keep them together.  Her hips didn’t stop, but the angle of her gyrating hips changed, pulsing enough pleasure into them both that they turned rabid once again.  Their lips crashed together in a bruising kiss, sloppy and fully of need.  When their orgasms hit, it was without warning and unanimous.  They both yipped, kiss seizing as their bodies did.  When their muscles stopped spasming in unison, they both collapsed back against the satin sheets, panting and delirious.   </p>
<p>Sleep wouldn’t be fought after that, and Ransom would blame that mind-numbing state for how his arms bound around Marta’s supple body and hugged her close enough his nose could brush against the back of her neck, allowing him to fall asleep to her lemony-sweet scent.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Morning After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Marta took her first conscious inhale, she smelled the remnants of sex and sweat so potently, she could taste it. Ransom’s pheromones clung to her in heady waves, stinging her nose and making her mouth water. Her lashes fluttered open to white, plain walls, a dresser, blue sheets beneath her and an arm hung heavily over her middle.</p><p>She stared at that limb for a long time, noting absently how even his forearm looked muscular and intriguing. “Morning,” he murmured near her ear, his voice rough and scratchy with sleep. She didn’t respond. Her brows knit together as the events that led up to this moment slowly came back to her mind. She noticed how bright the room was.</p><p>“What time is it?” she asked. Ransom sucked in a breath and hummed, his arm – and the weight of the rest of his body, she realized belatedly – slipping from her body as he turned around to check the digital clock beside his bed.</p><p>“Eightish,” he said, before he slid right back to where he’d been. The warmth that enveloped her made her heart stutter. <i>When did we fall asleep?</i> It took her a moment to remember, but when she finally did the calculation, her eyes widened and she blinked.</p><p>“We’ve been asleep for almost twenty hours?”</p><p>“I told you we’d sleep the next day away,” he pointed out, before she felt his lips on her skin. “And we did quite a bit more to tucker ourselves out, hm?” His voice became mumbled at the end with kisses he pressed against her bare shoulder. She felt her heart pound against her ribs, and for a second she couldn’t tell if it was in excitement or protest. When his hand set against her navel, Marta glanced over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of him.</p><p>“So now what?” She didn’t mean for her question to sound so loaded, and the second it was out, she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer. Ransom’s blue eyes flickered over her profile, before they rolled shut and he pressed another kiss to the tip of her arm.</p><p>“Now, we get breakfast,” he said while pushing himself up from the bed. Marta watched him round the bed and fish a pair of sweatpants out of the dresser. She took a proper survey of every muscular inch of him now that her mind wasn’t so foggy, heat flooding her cheeks ever so slightly. Once he exited the room – and she felt potently aware of how he left without another glance at her – she let herself revel in possibly the worst (albeit steamiest) decision of her life.</p><p>Marta wasn’t as prudish as she seemed. She liked sex, and she didn’t need love or eternal promises in order to be interested in fulfilling a carnal need. She’d never had an <i>actual</i> one night stand though, and she knew Ransom’s reputation. She wasn’t stupid enough to expect this to turn into anything (nor did she want it to, anyway), but she didn’t know how to navigate from here. Everything had changed, and it just kept changing.</p><p>She rose from the bed and realized the pajamas she brought were still in her bag… out in the living room where she’d meant to sleep. Pausing, her gaze flickered toward the dresser. She told herself she shouldn’t as she approached the drawers, but she seemed to still be on some strange autopilot. She opened the drawer and looked at the soft shirts within. Her fingertips curled around a grey Henley, and she rubbed her finger pads against the comforting material.</p><p>Taking it, she shut the drawer and went to the bathroom. </p><p>When she made it to the living room, she felt a little fresher, and had Ransom’s Henley draped over her torso. He looked up and froze, eyes raking over where the hem of the shirt skimmed her thighs. His mouth watered, eyes blackening for a brief moment at the way the shirt draped over her breasts and made her curves look strangely tempting in their hidden state.</p><p>The next moment, he looked down at the stovetop he was working over and said, “Making yourself at home, I see.” Marta’s lips parted, her cheeks growing a little rosy.</p><p>“I left my bag out here. I can change, if you want,” she said, pointing uselessly toward the living room. Ransom eyed her over the counter.</p><p>“No. You look hot in my clothes.” The off-hand compliment had her heart pounding, before he dryly chided, “Besides, that’s what you girls do, right?”</p><p>“You’d know better than me.” She went to fetch her sweatpants out of her bag regardless, more for appearance than warmth. Ransom chuckled at her comment.</p><p>“Never taken a fellow woman to bed?” he asked. She scoffed and shook her head at him. Instead of answering, she slid into one of the bar stools beside the wrap around counter for the kitchen. Setting her hands on the edge, she perked over it a little to look at what he was up to.</p><p>“What are you making?”</p><p>“Omelets.”</p><p>“Hm.” She watched him curiously for a moment. She didn’t know what was more distracting – the thick package of muscles he had on display without a shirt, or the fact that he was cooking. “It smells great,” she said, too stupid to focus on anything more serious than that. Eyes still turned toward his task, Ransom smirked.</p><p>He nodded. “Your appetite should be more normal now. The desire for raw foods will increase days leading up to the full moon, but otherwise…” he trailed off, and then shrugged. Again, Marta realized how much he knew – how intimate his understanding was of their… predicament.  <i>Years</i>, he said. </p><p>Rubbing one hand up her opposite arm as she leaned further on the counter, she asked, “How’d you become like this?” Ransom froze for a second. His eyes widened briefly, before the moment passed and he turned the burner off.</p><p>“College,” he said, clipped. “Met a girl.”</p><p>“And she rocked your world?”</p><p>“In a manner of speaking.” He scooped the omelets off the pan and onto plates. She watched him for a second longer before a question bubbled up her throat that she couldn’t stop.</p><p>“Have you killed anyone?” she whispered, afraid of the answer. Ransom didn’t give her one, but the way he looked at her – so steely and full of something dark – he didn’t have to. Swallowing, she searched the counter for some kind of balm to help them both. After a beat, Ransom spoke quietly. </p><p>“Those first couple months were blurry, but I saw what carelessness did first hand. She was reckless, cocky.” He saw disbelief in Marta’s gaze even before he locked eyes with her. Huffing, he nodded and said, “Yeah, more than me, if you can believe it. She felt invincible… but we’re not. There are people out there who know how to hunt and kill us.”</p><p>“She… she died?” Marta clarified, which Ransom scoffed at.</p><p>“That’s a word for it.” She looked away, mulling for a moment before she met his piercing gaze again.</p><p>“So you learned how to control yourself. Started coming up here.” Ransom nodded.</p><p>“You can keep coming here, too.  You <i>should</i>.” It was her turn to nod, but she suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze. Tipping back from his side of the counter, he picked up the plates and brought them around to the small kitchen table he had near Marta. As he set the plates down, she swiveled atop her stool to face the table. Before she could slip off the seat, he stepped into her space and wrapped his fingers beneath her chin. Gently angling her face up, he waited for their gazes to lock before he murmured, “You know, I meant it when I said it was nice having someone else around.”</p><p>Her lashes fluttered, eyes darkening reflexively. Her nostrils flared slightly, lips parting as his scent – which she could practically still taste – overwhelmed her. He could hear her heart suddenly pounding, watched the way it choked her briefly with desire. And then she jerked her chin back.</p><p>“We should eat,” she muttered, sliding off the stool beside him. When she passed him to get to the table, he smirked, eyes glinting malevolently. By the time he turned around, he once again looked passively pleased and invested in his company.  He sat down beside her and eyed her as she took her first bite of his cooking, his amicable mask hiding how all he could think was, <i>You’re mine, Cabrera. And soon, your fortune will be too.</i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Check-in</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Harlan’s napping right now.”</p>
<p>“That’s great.  Because I came here to see you.”</p>
<p>“<i>Me</i>?  Why?”  Ransom shrugged.</p>
<p>“Just came to check on how you were doing,” he said.  Marta blinked a few times.</p>
<p>“That’s… nice.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can't believe I finally finished this damn chapter lmao. It was an unplanned one, and I got stuck on the smut for so long it saddened me T_T I hope it's worth the wait. Thanks so much for your patience folks, and for sticking around to read this story!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Life went back to normal… except nothing felt normal anymore.  Marta went to work at Harlan’s mansion, and then went home and went to sleep.  Rinse and repeat.  Everything looked the same on the surface, but underneath she still felt like she was in a daze.  There was something horrible in her now, an animal with a new sense of the world, a feral killer.</p>
<p>And the only person who knew was <i>Ransom</i>.</p>
<p>Ransom, who she’d changed with, <i>slept</i> with.  Ransom, who she now thought of more than she ever had in the 5 years she’d worked here.  Ransom, who…. suddenly walked into the mansion’s living room where she stood beside the fire, interrupting the endless spiral her mind had been taking into the wicked licks of flames.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?” she asked, blanching in her disbelief.  He stood tall and proud as ever, his beige coat draped over a baby blue sweater and black slacks.  Ignoring the devious way he smirked, Marta said, “Harlan’s napping right now.”</p>
<p>“That’s great.  Because I came here to see you.”</p>
<p>“<i>Me</i>?  Why?”  Ransom shrugged.</p>
<p>“Just came to check on how you were doing,” he said.  Marta blinked a few times.</p>
<p>“That’s… nice.”  The way her voice stammered had Ransom’s expression flattening.</p>
<p>“Don’t sound so surprised,” he drawled.  Marta looked back at the fire, her lips pressing together tightly as a swirl of emotion pounded up through her chest.  “That good, huh?”  Marta didn’t know how much he guessed, but his musing felt invasively knowing.  He moved closer, his footsteps thudding in her eardrums as he stepped up to her side.  There he loomed, silent and waiting.  And before she knew it, Marta’s breath sighed out her lips hard enough that her shoulders sagged.</p>
<p>“Everything’s just the same, except…”</p>
<p>“You?” he finished when she couldn’t.  Her lips pressed together, eyes gleaming with her mounting emotions.  Before she could think of anything to say, his hand settled on her shoulder.  The weight of it didn’t exactly feel comforting, but she didn’t shrug him off.  A few moments passed, and when he received no reaction, Ransom let his hand slip away.  Marta almost regretted the lack of contact, but as Ransom slid his hands into his coat pockets, he asked, “You comin’ to Christmas dinner?”</p>
<p>“No.  Harlan gave me off that night.”</p>
<p>“Too bad.”  If she didn’t know him better, she’d say he sounded disappointed.  Her brows furrowed, and a frown tugged at her lips.</p>
<p>“Why are you doing this?” Marta asked, reeling on him.  He quirked a brow.  Shaking her head, she waved between them.  “Checking up on me, being nice to me, hinting you want me at a party.”</p>
<p>“I thought it was obvious,” he muttered, lips pursing.  Marta scoffed an incredulous laugh.</p>
<p>“Ransom, we’ve barely spoken over the last five years.  And now-“</p>
<p>“Now we have something in common,” he interrupted as he stepped into her space.  Her breath caught in her throat, head jerking back.  Not quick enough to keep his scent from invading her nose by tenfold.  With the fire crackling beside them, his hints of clove only smelled more divine and smoky.  She blinked, the heat radiating from his body sparking warmth through her veins, heady and lustful.  Her lips parted, before she swallowed her suddenly fluttery nerves.</p>
<p>“So?” she whispered.  Surprisingly, Ransom smiled.</p>
<p>“You don’t have to pretend, Marta.  This is a big deal.”</p>
<p>“I-“ she had to clear her throat before she could say, “I know that, but…”</p>
<p>“But you thought I wouldn’t treat it as such because I’m… me?”  Her mouth snapped shut, because there was no way she could picture responding to that without puking.  He took her silence as answer enough and nodded.  “I get it.  I’m known for my frivolity, and proud of it.  I’ll be the first to admit I don’t do the whole relationship… thing.”  When Marta’s eyes narrowed, he held his hands up.  “And I’m not saying either of us want that, but it’s like you said, right?  You’re different now.  The same kinda different as me, and I don’t know, maybe I like you a little past that.”</p>
<p>He smirked in a show of good humor.  Marta chuffed, unsure how to feel about the sentiment.  She eyed him warily, so he shrugged and folded his hands back into his pockets.  “Figure the least we both could do is see if that trend continues.  Besides, you owe me a date,” he said.  Brows knitting, Marta searched his face while she mulled over this strange twist in the day.  When she just continued to stare, Ransom rolled his eyes.  He was starting to wonder if she’d gotten brain damage at some point in the past, but instead of making a snide comment, he gestured out of the room with his coat.  “Wanna play a game of Go?  Maybe get your brain re-started with a couple games of kick ass.”</p>
<p>Okay, so maybe he couldn’t completely keep the snide out of his words.</p>
<p>Marta blinked, and then scoffed as her eyes narrowed.  She stood up a little straighter and twisted on her heel, leading the way out of the room and into the library, where Harlan had left his board of Go since Ransom’s last visit.  They cleared the remnants of a game she’d played with Harlan and started their own, Marta once again using the white stones.  They were quiet through the first game, speedy and focused, and when it came to an end, Ransom tipped back in his seat.  His narrowed eyes scanned the board, trying to retrace where he’d gone wrong.</p>
<p>Lips pressing into a thin line, he lifted his eyes to glare at Marta.  He didn’t need keen eyesight to see the smirk twitching onto her lips.  “Not so easy when you’re not distracting me,” she taunted.  Ransom had to fight to keep his stony mien in place as he started sliding the black stones back toward his side.  They played a second game, and when it ended the same way, Ransom huffed.</p>
<p>“What the fuck,” he whispered.  Marta laughed, and the tinkling sound of it had his blue eyes flickering to her sharply.  His lip twitched, before he leaned his head into his hand to hide the brief flicker of appreciation.  Two fingers tapping at the corner of his lip, he studied Marta for a long time.  “How’d you do that?” he finally asked, hand moving just enough to make it easier to speak.  As he settled back into his lazy slouch of contemplation, Marta started clearing the board.  She shrugged.</p>
<p>“Again?” she asked, instead of answering.  His nostrils flared, and then he peered at the board before chuffing.  Pushing up, he reached for his stones again.  They played slower this time, and as a result, Marta’s thoughts started to churn again.  “You’re not mad at Harlan, are you?” she asked quietly.  He leered at her, and she struggled to meet his gaze.  “For cutting you off?”</p>
<p>“Of course I’m mad, but what the hell am I gonna do about it?” he snapped, clacking a stone to the board.  <i>Besides seduce his heiress into making room for me.</i>  He had to fight off a smirk.</p>
<p>“He just wants you to start challenging yourself… try to make a fortune of your own, instead of leaning on his.”</p>
<p><i>You mean yours,</i> Ransom thought.  Aloud, he growled, “What a saint.”</p>
<p>“He’s not.  I know that.”</p>
<p>“I mean you,” Ransom crooned, his sharp eyes piercing through Marta in a way that made her nerves jitter.  His smile wasn’t kind.  “Preaching the honor and good intentions of a conniving old bastard.  Maybe I should start calling you Saint Marta.”  She averted her eyes back to the game and made her move, dropping the conversation for the time being.  Ransom sneered, before setting another stone to the board.  “This is about Harlan and no one else, Marta, make no mistake about that.  He primed me to free-load off him my entire life, used me as a spotlight to make the rest of our family crazy… and now he’s setting us all up to fight like vultures for a way to impress upon him how important we should be.”</p>
<p><i>But you’ve already won that spot, and you don’t even know it.</i>  For a second, Ransom hated her.  He wanted to lunge across the table and rip her to pieces, as he’d been so tempted to do the night he turned her.  His jaw flexed, the veins in his neck starting to bulge as he tried to work his temper down.  Marta stared at him with big brown eyes, her expression slack as she watched the fury ignite his eyes brighter.</p>
<p>“This is why I win,” she murmured, surprising him enough that his anger dissipated.  He blinked, for a second wondering if she knew more than he thought.  But her eyes turned to the game between them as she set another piece down.  He realized then that she was about to win again.  “We see very different pictures of the same thing.  You see strategies, schemes.  You try to anticipate my moves based on a cunning view of the game.  I see a different potential in the patterns our pieces create, an intricate and beautiful picture that builds on itself.”</p>
<p>His lip twitched again.  “You really are a saint,” he groused, eyes never leaving her face.  The tension between them crackled, and then Ransom really did lunge.  He shoved the entire table out of the way with a simple swipe of his arm, his supernatural strength making Marta’s heart leap into her throat.  He steadied it when his lips pressed against hers, and she arched into the way his arms wrapped around her back.  Her own circled his neck, pulling their chests flush together as their tongues battled for dominance.  His teeth nipped at her lip, tearing a groan out of her. He pulled her up from the chair, making her stand before him so he could press his hardening cock against her.</p>
<p>She gasped and tore away from the kiss, and exhaled loudly as his hand snuck beneath her sweater to land hot and needy against her bare side. “Not here,” she panted, and before she knew it, Ransom whirled her around and pushed her out of the library. They crossed the hall and veered around the staircase there, into the bedroom that existed just underneath. He didn’t waste time with the lights as the door clicked shut. He just grabbed her jaw and smothered her lips in another fervent kiss.</p>
<p>Addictive, that’s what his lips were. Soft and lush, demanding but pliant, and <i>so</i> sinfully sweet. She wanted to drown in them, and her knees went a little weak as the kiss deepened again. He caught her thighs, and the second she had her legs hiked over his hips, they crashed back onto the mattress.  Marta groaned as his weight compressed her, their groins grinding together in a lascivious dance.</p>
<p>Ransom’s hands found their way under her sweater, his fingers folding into her bra cups to tug them away from her breasts. In his haste to free her flesh, his pinky ring caught her nipple between his finger and the cool metal. It pinched, and tore a yelp from Marta’s throat. Ransom stilled above her, eyes glinting at her writhing form.</p>
<p>“Did you like that?” he murmured. Instead of waiting for an answer (he didn’t want one if she was going to puke anyway), he popped the button on her jeans and slipped his hand in her pants. Marta gasped, her lashes fluttering as she lurched up, the sudden, warm press of his fingers against her folds – and how he got under her panties so smoothly she had no idea – an alarming change of stimulation.</p>
<p>Just as his fingers dug home, he dragged his hand across her breast again, his ring once again catching her sensitive, budding nipple. Another pained chirp escaped her, but as she lurched, Ransom felt her juices seep onto his fingers. Laughing, he teased, “Guess that’s a yes.”</p>
<p>“Ransom-“ she choked on her words when the heel of his fingers ground into her clit.</p>
<p>“Shh.” He leaned over her, capturing her mouth in a lush kiss while his hands kneaded into her cunt and breast. Every once in awhile, his ring snagged her flesh again, making her mewl into their kiss and her cunt to clench around the shallow plunge of his fingers. His tongue capitalized on the opportunity to slowly grind with hers, until his mouth left her lips to capture her other, neglected nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, nipping her budding flesh every once in awhile to even the playing field to the other, which he was still rolling between his thumb and pointer finger. </p>
<p>Marta didn’t know how he was capable of moving in so many different places at once, but the sensations were starting to overwhelm her. Keening, she arched her back, and felt Ransom’s fingers slip a little deeper into her wet center, his palm still pressing little circles into her clit. And all at once, he took it away, leaving her walls fluttering around nothing. He stood up and flipped her onto her stomach, and yanked her toward the edge of the bed by the back of her jeans.</p>
<p>A moment later and cool air hit her rear. She gasped, and tried to look over her shoulder before Ransom’s hand clamped down around the very same one, keeping her in place as his cock pressed to her entrance. He pushed inside her steadily, and the sudden invasion – feeling fuller than she was quite capable of handling - almost had her shouting. She muffled it by biting into her sweater, but another squeak slipped from her when Ransom’s hips rolled languidly against her own, digging his cock into her even deeper.</p>
<p>His breath left him in a stutter, his fingers digging into her hips for a moment before he pulled out and shoved back in. Marta’s fingers curled into the bed sheets as Ransom picked up his pace, hard, plunging strokes of his cock steadily setting her on fire. The most blissful ache started to tighten her walls. Every time the head of his cock hit home she throbbed, and biting down on her own knuckles was all she could do to keep quiet.</p>
<p>That went out the window when Ransom’s hand snaked between her legs, that infernal ring sliding over her clit. The smooth but unforgiving metal had her shouting a clipped note, and she clenched down on Ransom’s cock hard enough to drag a breathless laugh from him.</p>
<p>The stairs creaked a moment later, and with a thundering heart, Marta remembered she was technically at work. Gasping, she arched beneath Ransom, her attempt to regain some control only changing the angle of his cock burrowed into her. Fire pulsed through her, the incessant drag of that ring making her dizzy as her juices flooded her channel in threat of climax. Ransom let out another airy laugh when Harlan’s voice echoed from behind the door, calling for Marta.</p>
<p>“Uh oh, Saint Marta,” Ransom murmured to her, his hips never once faltering as he fucked into her. Her cunt clenched around him again, body throbbing with a mix of mortification and pleasure.</p>
<p>“Don’t call me that.”</p>
<p>“Why? You seem to like it. Or is it just the juxtaposition of your innocent mirage being shattered by the fact that you’re a filthy little freak.”</p>
<p>“Juxtaposition. That’s a big word for you.” Ransom snarled at the insult. He pulled out of her and flipped her onto her back. Finally ripping her pants off, he pushed her knees out wide and shoved his cock back inside her slick entrance. Mewling, Marta flung her arms over her face as he pushed her sweater up beneath her chin so he could see her breasts bounce above the bra now stuck uselessly to her ribs. He pounded into her, the bed’s quality the only reason they didn’t squeak their whereabouts to the house. Marta’s ears burned as she heard Harlan’s voice again, farther away this time, but still easy for her newfound hearing to pick up.</p>
<p>She couldn’t take it, the strange day and this feral thing she had with Ransom finally rushing through her. Just as her walls started to flutter, Ransom’s hand clamped down around her mouth, fingers squeezing into her jaw and cheeks. She was shocked enough to lift her arms from that alone, but her eyes snapped open when Ransom growled, “Look at me when you come.”</p>
<p>Her eyes went wide as she looked at Ransom, lost in his lust-blown pupils and the thin ring of icy blue that seemed to glow with the pale sunlight filtering in through the curtain. Her nostrils flared as he smothered her mouth, and it only took a few more thrusts before she cried into his palm as her orgasm snapped through her. She arched beneath him, body pressing into his as her cunt squeezed and wept around his cock. His breath stuttered on a low moan before he buried himself as deeply as he could get inside her and came with a shudder.</p>
<p>When they were both dizzy and stunned by the aftershocks, his hand slipped away from her mouth. She panted, sucking in big gulps of air as she tried to make sense of Ransom’s weight on top of her, and how she… sort of enjoyed it. The rest she couldn’t put her finger on, brain too stupid to process the affair, and then Ransom’s weight was gone. He pulled his pants up from around his ankles and grabbed Marta’s panties. Eyes raking over her wrecked figure, he licked his lips.</p>
<p>“I sorta love that you’re going to smell like me all day.” He grinned at the way she ducked her head, cheeks burning red. But as she continued to avoid is eye as she straightened herself out, he sobered. When she went to take her panties from him, he didn’t relinquish his hold at first. His other hand slipped beneath her chin and pressed her face up until their eyes met. </p>
<p>“Come out with me and my friends,” he said. Marta blinked.</p>
<p>“What?” He searched her confused expression for a moment before he helped tuck her hair behind her ear.</p>
<p>“You don’t trust I want this, so… come out with my people, let me show you off to them.” His fingers traced down her jaw, lulling her suspicion away with the gentle caress. Then, he smiled. “I assume Saint Marta isn’t doing anything fun for New Years. So come out with me. We’re going to a huge party at a club.”</p>
<p>“I-“ she faltered. Blinking again, she mulled the option over a moment before she nodded. “Okay.”</p>
<p>“Great.” He smirked, and leaned forward to kiss her swiftly. His cocky grin lingered as he pulled back. “See ya later.” Marta barely got her panties on before he vacated the room, though he had the decency to shut the door before he started whistling as he gathered his coat and left the premises.</p>
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